


Fixing Yesterdays

by AmazingAbigail



Series: Fixing Yesterdays [1]
Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Charlie doesn't get expelled, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I added a girl for some reason, I'm not a heartless monster, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sadness, Stupidity, Suicide Attempt, Teens being teens, Underage Drinking, because again - I'm not a heartless monster, but here we are, maybe not the best idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 57,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazingAbigail/pseuds/AmazingAbigail
Summary: Margo Evanston's life was planned out for her and she never knew she could go against it until a new teacher starts at Welton.





	1. Chapter 1

            “Margaret, fix your hair please.”

            I turn to mother, who is standing with father as we wait to enter the chapel. My hand reaches for my hair. “What’s wrong with it?”

            “Your ponytail is coming loose. You know the rules.”

            I try not to sight as I release my hair from its holder and redo it quickly.

            “Thank you, dear.”

            I turn away from her and scan the room. I don’t see anyone I’m looking for, probably because they’re in the back getting ready.

            The chapel doors open and slowly the people ahead of us begin to file in. Father finishes his conversation with Mr. Cameron as we move forward. I find us seats in the middle, at the edge of the aisle. The room continues to fill, and I can tell none of the windows are cracked by how quickly the air becomes stuffy.

            I adjust my black blazer as the last of the parents find their seats. It’s silent for a moment, and even though I know it’s coming, I still jump in my seat when I hear the first notes of the bagpipe from behind me.

            The doors creak open and the processional walks down the aisle. The people around me turn back to watch the boys enter, and I turn as well, hoping to finally catch a glimpse of someone I know.

            Two eighth graders pass first, followed by James Ackerwood, a fellow eleventh grader, and the senior with his bagpipes. Then Richard Cameron passes, struggling to hold his banner upright and I fight back a grin. George Hopkins is behind him, followed by Knox Overstreet, and finally Neil Perry, who glances left at just the right moment to meet my eye.

            He smiles as he passes, and I can’t help but smile in return. Neil has been one of my best friends since we were younger, though there was a brief time we weren’t friends when we hit about ten through twelve, the time when the opposite sex was gross. But once we hit puberty, we were thrown back together by our parents, and we quickly recovered our lost time.

            The boys set their banners down, and stand behind them.

            Mr. Nolan stands and heads for the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys, the light of knowledge.”

            This year’s alum, the paper I’m holding says his name is Albert Layur, Class of 1931, steps forwards to light the first candle of the entering class.

            The boys find their parents and take their seats. Mr. Nolan continues speaking. “One hundred years ago, in 1859, forty-one boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that now greets you at the start of each semester. Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?”

            I’m forced to stand and recite, “Tradition. Honor. Discipline. Excellence,” with the other students, even though, as I remark a lot, I’m not a gentleman.

            When I sit, mother reaches over and smooths my skirt a bit unnecessarily. My face burns as I tune back in to Mr. Nolan’s opening speech. “…graduated 5 students. Last year we graduated 51 and more than 75% of those went on to the Ivy League!”

            The room bursts into applause and Mr. Nolan waits for it to die down before continuing. I can feel sweat gathering on the back of my neck. Don’t let this be like last year, when his opening speech went on for over an hour. I’m sweating in this blazer and I want to take it off.

            “This kind of accomplishment is the result of fervent dedication to the principles taught here. This is why you parents have been sending us your sons,” and daughter, I silently add. He’s never going to add me into his speeches. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a couple dozen and just rotated them throughout the years.

            “As you know, our beloved Mr. Porteus of the English department retired last term. You will have the opportunity later to meet his replacement, Mr. John Keating.” Everyone around us looks towards the left side of the stage, trying to catch a glimpse of him. He stands. He’s not as old as I would have guessed. “Himself an honors graduate of this school and who for the past several years as been teaching at the highly regarded Chester School in London.”

            The ceremony ends quickly and I’m relieved to be outside again. It’s still warm, but at least the air is fresh.

            Just like last year, it’s chaos on the front grounds. There are cars everywhere, suitcases everywhere, people everywhere.

            Father has stopped on the steps to speak with Mr. Nolan. I’m hoping he’s getting me out of the library work I was forced to do last year for my extracurricular activity. Never in my life have I been so bored than those three days a week, sitting at the front counter, waiting for students and teachers to filter in to take books out.

            “Elizabeth! Margaret!” Mother and I turn to see Mrs. Perry and Neil walking towards us.

            “Rebecca, how are you?” Mother asks, smiling widely. Mother and Mrs. Perry were tennis pairs during their school days, and have remained close ever since.

            Neil smiles at me but we don’t talk. We realized a long time ago it’s best to keep quiet around our parents. No matter what we say to each other around them, it’ll later be used to warp our ‘budding relationship.’

            Mr. Nolan walks by with Mr. Perry and father. “We’re about to greet Mr. Keating,” father tells us. “Come Elizabeth.”

            “We’ll be back, Margaret,” she says before flashing Neil a big smile. “I’m sure you two would like to catch up anyway.”

            Neither of us speaks until they leave. When another group of families separates us from them, we turn to each other before we start laughing.

            “How was the rest of your summer?” I ask. “I haven’t talked to you since-”

            “Since the Fourth of July, yeah,” he finishes with a smile that looks a bit forced. “What a disaster that was. I’m sorry.”

            I bite my lip and recall the night he’s talking about.

 

_We were at the Perry’s for dinner before going to see the fireworks the town was setting off. We had been doing this for years, as we lived only about twenty, twenty-five minutes apart. Mrs. Perry had made chicken cordon bleu, my favorite dish. I opted out of dessert, at mother’s request, and Neil and I were excused to the porch while our parents had pudding and coffee before we left for Amingdale Park._

_“When do you start summer school?” I asked him as we sat on the swing that hung from their porch._

_“Next week, for four weeks. I’m dreading it.” He sat down next to me, close to me, and I forced myself not to move over. I bet our parents are watching us._

_“You’re good at Chemistry though. It’ll be no problem.” I looked over at him and couldn’t help but smile. He glanced at me and smiled back._

_“Thanks,” he said as my stomach did a flip flop._

_Ever since our friendship was rekindled, and puberty was reached, I found myself attracted to Neil. For the first few years, I blamed puberty, but after a couple more years, I realized it was just because of Neil. It was hard not to love him._

_But it was easy to pretend I didn’t. Our parents wanted nothing more than for us to marry. My parents saw his potential, and saw the power Mr. Perry had over others even though they weren’t as well off as us. They thought Neil was the reason I wasn’t fighting or getting into trouble anymore. His parents saw that if Neil entered our family, my father could open doors for him otherwise unreachable. It’s all about power when you have money, we quickly realized._

_And because I didn’t want to give them what they wanted, I hid my feelings and acted like I hated everything they did to get us together. Dinners once a week over summer, parties over the holidays, once a vacation together. It became worse when I was expelled from Henley Hall for fighting in ninth grade. It was the last good all girls school in the area and they didn’t want me to attend a public school, but also didn’t want me to attend a school far from home._

_So our summer vacation was cancelled and with the money from that, plus a hefty sum from our savings account, Welton Academy gained a bright and shining new library in a building built a walk away from the dormitories, and its first female attendee._

_“Margo?” Neil had asked._

_I turned to him. “What?”_

_“I asked if you wanted me to get us some pudding.”_

_I wrinkled my nose and shake my head. I was definitely too full to eat anything else. But I did glance over my shoulder quickly._

_“They’re watching us,” I told him. I didn’t even know why I was surprised. “Why do they always have to watch us?”I leaned my head against the back of the swing, and stared at the ceiling._

_“You know why,” Neil said. He started pushing the swing back and forth with his foot. I sat back up and cross my ankles._

_“God, I hate it.” I said, which was my typical mantra when in this situation. “Don’t you hate this?”_

_He shrugged. “Not really,” he said after a pause._

_This surprised me. “What?”_

_He turned to me. “Not really,” he repeated. “I, I like it when your parents force you here. I like seeing you outside of school.”_

_My brain wasn’t working at full capacity. I sat up slowly. He always said he’s hated what our parents do to us. When did this change? What made this change?_

_“Since when?” I asked._

_He shrugged again. “I don’t know exactly. A while.”_

_I didn’t know what to say. A part of me was screaming to tell him I didn’t hate this either, but I couldn’t. It was what my parents want, and I’m not like Neil. I’m not willing to agree to everything my parents say to make life easy. I could never do that._

_“Margo?”_

_I watched his foot as it continued to move the swing back and forth at a slow pace. “Yeah?”_

_Neil, who was usually so confident, suddenly seemed so timid that it made me uncomfortable when he asked, “Do you think you’ll ever like it?”_

_I looked over at him. “Maybe,” I whispered._

_He nodded. “Okay.”_

_We sat in silence for the next ten minutes, until our parents were ready to head for town. As soon as we were all together, it was as if Neil had slipped back into the facade we had built for these occasions. It was almost as if it had never happened_

 

            Yet here he was, apologizing for it. “It’s okay,” I tell him after a pause. There’s a hint of something I spot in his eyes when he looks at me, but it’s gone when he smiles. “How was summer school?”

            “Terrible,” he says laughing. “But at least I’m prepared.”

            “You can help the rest of us.” He shrugs in false modesty and I roll my eyes.

            “Are you in for study group?” he asks.

            “Of course,” I say. I glance behind him and notice our parents walking back towards us. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

            He nods and turns, meeting his parents halfway. Mine return to me, and mother is smiling. She must have seen us talking.

            “I’ll retrieve your things from the car,” father tells me before disappearing. Mother and I make our way out of the courtyard and to the dorms.

            “Hey Margo!” I hear as a group passes by me. I quickly recognize Steven Meeks and Knox Overstreet. “Find us after you drop your stuff off!”

            “I will!” I call after them. Mother shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything. Knox is bound to join his father’s law firm after he graduates from law school, and Meeks is literally a genius that can do whatever he wants, but his mind is set on engineering.

            The dorms are set up on three floors, in an L shape. The top floors are for the seventh and eighth graders, the second floor is for ninth and tenth graders, and the bottom floor is for eleventh and twelfth graders. The other side of the building is the dining hall. My room is going to be in the corner by one of the staircases and across the hall from the floor adviser. The name on the door says it’s Dr. Hager this year. Each teacher has to spend a year as a floor adviser, and some are stricter than others. Last year our adviser was Mr. McAllister, the Latin teacher, and he was the best.

            The reason I know where my room will be is because the corner is where all three of the single dorms are. They used to be reserved for the sickly. Robert Nells would have this room if it wasn’t for me, and I can see him and his father talking with Dr. Hager about his many medications.

            My favorite thing about the singles rooms is the attached bathroom. It’s small, but it has everything I need. Mother was very relieved I wouldn’t have to share a bathroom with the boys.

            Father enters a couple minutes later. I take my toiletries bag to the bathroom while Father drops my bags on the desk and the floor. Mother pulls out my bedding and makes up the bed for me.

            “I spoke with Mr. Nolan,” father tells me. “He told me all students must have an extracurricular, and the library is the only one you can do. I’m sorry.”

            I sigh. “It’s alright,” I tell him.

            “But he changed your days to Monday and Wednesday from four to six-thirty.”

            That was better. Only two days a week for an hour and a half? I smile. “Thank you.”

            “Of course.”

            “Is there anything else you’ll be needing dear?” Mother asks as she finishes my bed.

            I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I’m just going to unpack and find my friends.”

            “Be mindful to follow your rules-” door open with guests, hair in a ponytail, no jewelry, uniform on all day on school days, “-and try to get less demerits this year, okay?” Father asks with a nod of the head.

            “And call if you need anything,” mother adds as they head for the door.

            “Have a safe trip home.” I say just as the door closes. I glance around at the suitcases and leave the room, I say hello to the boys that pass as I walk down the hallway. I have a feeling they’ll be in Neil’s room, which I find at the end of the hall. The door is shut, so I knock twice and open it.

            “Margo!” Charlie Dalton shouts from the bed.

            I smile. “You’ve been smoking,” I berate quietly.

            I notice the boy just behind Knox, unpacking his suitcase. I’ve never seen him before. “You’re new, right?” I ask. He turns to me quickly, looking startled.

            “Oh yeah, this is Todd Anderson,” Neil says.

            I stretch my hand out to shake his. “Margo Evanston.”  
  
            “ _Margaret_ ,” Meeks adds with a chuckle.

            “Please do not call my Margaret,” I tell Todd with a side glare at Meeks, who is still chuckling.

            Todd glances at me again, and then over at Knox. “D-do you go here?” Todd asks and I notice right away he has a bit of a stutter. He’s uneasiness is rolling off of him in waves.

            “Unfortunately,” Charlie says with a smirk and I lean towards him and slap his leg. He sits up and I sit at the foot of Neil’s bed.

            Todd glances at Neil before turning back to his stuff.

            “Her father donated a lot of money for her to come here,” he tells him, as if Todd asked a question.

            “That’s why the library is the _Evanston Library for Learning_ ,” I tell him. “Which I’m stuck working at again this year, Monday and Wednesday before dinner. I’m going to go crazy.”

            “Well, you shouldn’t have punched that girl,” Knox says. I roll my eyes. That’s always been obvious.

            There’s a knock on the door frame and Mr. Perry enters. The boys all stand, but he tells them to remain seated. Neil sounds surprised when he speaks. “Father, I thought you had gone.”

             “I’ve just spoken to Mr. Nolan. I think you’re taking too many extracurricular activities this semester and I’ve decided you should drop the school annual.”

            I look back at Neil. He looks crestfallen. “But I’m the assistant editor this year.”

            “I’m sorry Neil.” He’s not sorry. He doesn’t sound or look sorry. I bite my tongue to keep myself from speaking. As much as I want to say something, I know it’s not my place.

            “But father, I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair!”

            “Fellows, would you excuse us?” Mr. Perry says abruptly. Neil walks past and they leave the room. Charlie and Knox share a look as Meeks and I do. Todd does nothing but check his watch against his desk clock.

            We can hear snippets of their conversation. When Mr. Perry gives Neil his goodbye, the boys minus Todd leave the room and check on Neil. I know he’s devastated. He was so excited to be made assistant editor at the end of the last term.

            There’s an outburst from Neil. Todd turns and looks at me quickly before turning away again. I wonder if he feels just as uncomfortable as I do.

            Neil reenters the room and Meeks pops his head in after him. “Latin, eight o’clock in my room?”

            I sigh, “Of course. I need a review.”

            “Todd, you’re welcome to join us,” Meeks tells him.

            “Yeah, come along, pal,” Knox adds.

            “Thanks,” is all he says. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t show up.

            They leave and I look over at Neil. He slowly takes off his annual pin and tosses it to his desk. I watch it hit the wall, roll across the surface of the desk, and land on the floor beside the chair.

            “It could be worse,” I offer, trying to cheer him up. “At least you aren’t working at the library.”

            He laughs, but it’s hollow. “You really shouldn’t have hit that girl.”

            “She had it coming.” I pause. “See you at eight?” I ask him. He nods. I say goodbye to Todd and leave. I have a bunch of unpacking to do.


	2. Chapter 2

At eight o’clock, I make my way down the hallway to the room Meeks is sharing this year with Gerard Pitts. I can already hear Meeks reciting words and Charlie is repeating them.

            I knock. It goes silent and the door opens.

            “Pitts!” I cry with a smile.

            “Hey Margo,” he says, stepping aside and letting me enter. He leaves the door half open in compliance to my rules and goes back to his desk. He’s working on something mechanical and clearly isn’t paying attention to the learning happening.

            “Hey,” I say to the others, that I count as I look around. Six. I turn to Neil. “Todd decide not to join us?”

            “That kid’s a spaz,” Richard Cameron says without looking up from his book. I turn to him and raise an eyebrow that he doesn’t see. Did he even meet Todd? I move to sit on Pitts’ bed and watch him tinker with…with whatever he’s tinkering with.

            “It’s a radio,” he whispers to me before I can ask.

            “Back to work?” Meeks asks. “Margo,”

            “I’m just here to listen. You know I hate Latin.” Honestly, it wasn’t hard. It was just memorizing words and spellings. It was speaking it that I hated. I could never enunciate well enough for McAllister.

            “Summus?”

            “Uppermost,” I respond quickly. Charlie and Knox look up at me. I shrug. “They kind of rhyme,” I tell them.

            I spend more of the next hour watching Pitts than participating in study group. I’m listening to them, and sometimes I respond. I’m trying to enjoy my last night of work free, study free time.

            Dr. Hager calls for lights out down the hallway and everybody stands. It looks like Charlie is glad it’s over. I know he struggles with Latin the most.

 

The chapel bell rings at five the next morning. My alarm rings fifteen minutes later, and I pull myself out of bed. I forgot how terrible it is getting up so early.

            I head for the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I can hear people passing my door for the stairs and I find it hard to believe that other people are already awake and heading for breakfast.

            I dress as quickly as I can; past the knee gray skirt, gray knee socks, black dress shoes, white long sleeve shirt buttoned fully, and my black blazer. I’m grateful I don’t have to wear a tie.

            I’m already hot, and I know by Latin I’ll have the blazer off and my sleeves rolled up. None of us are capable of leaving our uniforms on fully intact for a whole day.

            I leave my room and make for the stairs. Already it’s crowded with boys heading for breakfast, shouting and talking over one another. I just try to keep with the current until I reach the dining hall.

            Knox is the first one I spot when I enter. Breakfast is not a formal affair, unlike dinner. There are boys in white pacing the room, looking for glasses to refill and plates to take away. I make my way over to Knox and take a seat across from him.

            “Muffin?” he asks, holding one out to me. Stupid Knox and his ability to be a morning person.

            “Blueberry?” I ask reaching for it.

            “Course.”

            Neil is the next to join us, with Todd right behind him. I break apart my muffin and pull the orange marmalade close to me. The others filter in, and quiet chatter begins as we start to wake up.

            We have Chemistry first, with Mr. Allensburg. He takes roll quickly, not even bothering to call out our names, just glances up and down until all twenty-eight of us are accounted for. He spends the first part of class explaining to us how to behave during class. He reads to us a long list of safety protocols. I’m sitting in the back, behind Meeks, and I watch Charlie roll up his sleeves, and then Pitts takes off his blazer.

            I wait for Mr. Allensburg to turn before I slip out of my own blazer. I can already feel myself beginning to sweat and it’s only first period.

            He calls for Nells and Richardson to help pass out our textbooks as he explains the course assignments. I try to will Neil to turn around when Mr. Allensburg says, “In addition to the assignments in the text, you will each pick a partner and complete three lab experiments from the project list, and report on one every five weeks.” I need Neil to be my partner. I’m doomed without him.

            We’re excused and head for Latin, where we recite after McAllister and he assigns a one page paper on a word that sticks out to us and why. He did the same thing last year, and I’m planning on using the same word.

            We have Dr. Hager for trig. He’s the only teacher at Welton that has a doctorate. He passes our books and tells us the importance of “absolute precision” in our study of trig. I follow him with my eyes as he walks down the aisles, but I don’t focus on him. I’m still warm and we have lunch next and I’m starving.

            Finally Dr. Hager stops talking and notices the clock. He lets us leave with our homework, questions one through fifteen due tomorrow morning. My head is going to explode. I quickly write down the assignment and follow Pitts out of the room. I shift my books from one arm to another as we walk. I wish I had time to drop some of these books off.

            We’re almost to lunch when I feel my ponytail holder snap. I stop and start digging through the pockets of my skirt. Pitts stops too and asks, “What are you doing?” Other students are moving around us. The holder falls and my hair drops. I know I have another holder, I always have one with me, and if I don’t find it-

            “Ms. Evanston!” I hear from behind me. I tense up and turn. McAllister is walking towards us. “I believe you know the dress code,” he says when he reaches us.

            “I do sir, but my holder broke and I know I have another one on me somewhere.”

            It almost looks like he’s about to smile. “Then you had better fix it before another teacher comes by and gives you a demerit.”

            I smile. “Yes sir.”

            He turns and leaves. I roll my head back to look at Pitts. “Today is going to suck,” I groan.

            “You didn’t get any demerits,” he reminds me.

            I don’t say anything, but I hold my books out to him. He takes them, though he struggles with the pile. I find a holder in my blazer pocket and quickly pull my hair back up.

            “Thanks,” I say as I take my books back. We’ve completely lost the group, but find them at the usual table in the dining hall. No one is talking, just eating quickly so we’re not late for History.

            By the time we get to English, I know I’m not the only one ready for today to be done. Our books are already sitting on the desks, but Mr. Keating isn’t in the room. I sit down in the back beside Charlie and Neil walks past. I forgot I wanted to ask him to be my chemistry partner! Damn. I’ll do it after class.

            I’m flipping through the text when I hear whistling. I glance up. Mr. Keating is the source of it, and he’s walking up the center aisle, and leaves the room. A gentle murmur of confusion begins as everybody glances at one another. I turn to Charlie, who shrugs.

            “Well, come on!” Mr. Keating says from the doorway.

            There’s another bout of confusion, but then Cameron is out of his seat, followed by Hopkins, Neil, Sanders and then the rest of the class. Mr. Keating is already a good bit ahead of us as we follow him to the honors room on the bottom floor of the building.

            I end up in the front, my least favorite place to be, against the table we’re surrounding. Mr. Keating is on the other side, waiting for us to all file in and settle down.

            “O Captain, my Captain. Who knows where that comes from?” He asks, glancing around. Everybody remains quiet. “Anybody? Not a clue?” He pauses again, but no one says anything. “It’s from a poem by Walt Whitman, about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Now in this class you can either call me Mr. Keating, or if you’re slightly more daring: O Captain, my Captain.” I chuckle along with a couple other boys around the room. “Now let me dispel a few rumors so they don’t become fact. Yes, I too attended _Hellton_ and survived.  And no, at that time I was not the mental giant you see before you, I was the intellectual equivalent of a 98 pound weakling. I would go to the beach and people would kick copies of Byron in my face.” There’s more laughter, coming from more people.

            “Now,” he says, glancing at the roll call before him. His eyes furrow, and he looks up, takes a sweep of the room, and his eyes find mine.

            “It looks like quite a lot has changed since my time here,” he says. I hear a couple boys laugh and my face burns. Of course he had to say something. I should have known. He’s the new teacher. All the others were here when I started. I look down.

               “Okay,” he says, looking once again at his sheet. “Mister…Pitts. Pitts. That’s a rather unfortunate name. Mr. Pitts, will you open your book to page 542 and read the first stanza of the poem you find there?”

               There’s a sound of page turning as we all open our books with him. “ _To The Virgins to Make Much Of Time?”_ He asks, stuttering a bit on the title. Somebody starts laughing and I roll my eyes.

               “Yes, that's the one. Somewhat appropriate, isn’t it?”

               Pitts ignores him and begins to read:

_Gather ye rosebuds while ye may_   
_Old time is still a flying_  
_And this same flower that smiles today_ _  
_ _Tomorrow will be dying._

               “‘Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.’ The Latin term for that sentiment is _carpe diem_. Anyone know that that means?”

               I’m not surprised with Meeks raises his hand and answers. “ _Carpe diem_. That’s seize the day.”

               “Very good, mister?”

               “Meeks.”

               “Meeks. Another unusual name. Seize the day! Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Why does the poet use these lines?”

               “Because he’s in a hurry,” Charlie calls from the back.

               “Because we're food for worms, lads!” There’s that thing I hate again. I close my book and hold it tightly against my chest. Mr. Keating is talking, but it’s all about death and it makes me feel uncomfortable.

               “You’ve walked past them many times, but I don’t think you’ve really looked at them.”

               The boys start for the pictures, and I let myself fall to the back. Mr. Keating continues on about how the boys are the same as us, and I almost laugh because I would hope they weren’t the same as me.

               Everybody starts leaning in. Mr. Keating is pacing behind us and I finally tune back into what he’s saying. “Do you hear it? _Carpe_ …. _carpe_ …. _carpe diem_. Seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.”

               We stand in silence, and I’m glad I tuned back in. I want to make my life extraordinary.

               Mr. Keating dismisses us as we return to the classroom to collect our books, and I’m relieved when he doesn’t give us an assignment for the night.

               We make it to the walkway before Pitts mumbles, “That was weird.”

               “It wasn’t terrible,” I add, shifting my books from one arm to the other.

               “You think he’ll test us on that stuff?”Cameron asks.

               I roll my eyes as Charlie tells him off. We head to our rooms to drop off our books before the boys head to practice and I go to the library for my hour and a half of work. Would it be so hard to put me on the school newspaper? Or the annual? I didn’t think so, but apparently I was wrong.

               My arms are relieved when I drop my books on my desk. I stare at my books for a moment. I really don’t want to go to the library. I’d rather get a head start on my work. I stare for another moment before I grab my chemistry book. I’ll at least get something done.

               I leave the room and spot the boys on the stairs.

               “Neil!” I call, heading down the stairs after him.

               He turns and smiles when he sees me. My stomach flips like it always does when I see him smile. How stupid I am. “I’ll catch up with you,” he tells the others, who continue on. “What’s going on?” he asks when I meet him on the landing.

               “I’m praying you haven’t picked a chemistry partner yet, because if you have, I’m done for.”

               He laughs. “That’s all? And it couldn’t wait?”

               “No, because we all know you went to class for it over the summer. Now please tell me you can be my partner!”

               He smiles and I can’t help but smile back. “I can be your partner.”

               I sigh in relief. “Oh, thank you!” I say, and I pull him into a hug without a second thought. I freeze for a moment then back off quickly. I escaped one demerit today; I don’t think I can do it again.

               “I appreciate it,” I tell him, still smiling. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. The tips of his ears have turned red. I didn’t mean to embarrass him.

               “Don’t mention it.” He motions down the stairs and start walking. “We’ll talk about projects tonight in the lounge?”

               “Sounds good to me. I haven’t even looked at the project list yet.”

               “Me either, but I will after practice.” We reach the bottom of the stairs and make for the front door.

               “Have fun,” I tell him.

               “You too,” he responds before we go our separate ways.

               I shouldn’t have hugged him, and I can’t stop thinking that I shouldn’t have hugged him during my time at the library. Ms. Black keeps an eye on me from her office. I struggle to push Neil out of my mind so I can finish this homework before dinner. I can’t even remember the last time I hugged him. Maybe it was last year? I really put my mind into chemistry. No more Neil.

               Only two people come into the library, and they don’t need any help and don’t check out any books, so I finish up just before I can leave. I say goodbye to Ms. Black and hurry out of the room before she can call me back for anything and drop my book off in my room. I still have thirty minutes until dinner. I sit down and tug my trig book from the pile. I flip the pages open until I find the questions we were assigned.

               I get stuck on number four and skip it before finishing the rest of the questions. I lean back in my chair and my English text catches my eye. I take it from the top of the pile and flip through it slowly. Some of the names jump out at me, and others don’t.

               I pause for a moment before I open my top drawer and pull out a note card. Slowly I write _seize the day_ across it. I dig around and find my tape. I rip off a small piece and hang it on the wall beside my desk. I like it there. It makes the walls look less bare.

               The chapel bell rings, so I stand and make my way down to the dining hall. I’m the first one to the table, probably because the boys are still at practice.

               I stand behind my chair and wait. At dinner, Nolan has to allow us to sit after we say grace. I glance around the room and watch the hall fill up. I see Neil enter with Todd and immediately look away and make eye contact with Hopkins, who is trying to move past me to his own seat.

               “Evanston,” he says with a nod.

               “Hopkins,” I reply. We never actually talk to each other, just quickly hellos. In fact, I don’t talk much to a lot of the boys here. I mostly try to keep out of their way, seeing as they actually have a purpose in life besides marrying right out of school.

               They others finally arrive at the table and we say grace before sitting. I notice the empty chair diagonal from me and ask, “Where’s Knox?”

               “He’s having dinner with the Danberry’s,” Cameron tells me and I swear I can see the envy in his eyes.

               “The Danberry’s? As in Joseph Danberry? How did he manage that?”

               “Friend of the family,” Cameron says before taking a bite of stew. Oh. Huh. I had no idea the Overstreet’s and the Danberry’s knew each other. I shrug it off and continue eating.

               “We’re meeting for trig in the lounge,” Meeks tells me. “You in?”

               I nod. “I got stuck on number four, so I may need some help.” After dinner I gather up my books and make my way down the hallway towards the lounge. The boys have changed and I see Neil is wearing the plaid shirt I like. I blush and sit down next to Charlie. Cameron is in between them, and Meeks and Pitts are at the end of the table working on their radio.

               “How’s homework going?” I ask Charlie when I see his doodles on the blank paper in front of him.

               “Perfect.”

               I laugh and Neil looks up at me. “Are we still talking about our chemistry projects? If so, maybe you should sit over here.”

               Charlie turns to me. “You asked Neil to be your partner?” he asks slowly.

               “I’m sorry, okay? I need his help!” I tell him. “Don’t be mad.”

               “Don’t be mad?” he repeats. “I was going to ask him to be my partner.”

               “Well I got to him first.” I hear Pitts laughing beside me and I give Charlie an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. You can have him next year.”

               “That’s what Knox said _last year_.” Charlie continues to stare at me, but his face softens.

               “I’m sorry,” I repeat. I glance at Neil. He’s smiling. “Tell him Neil; next year you’re all his.”

               “Next year I’m all yours,” he repeats to Charlie. Charlie waggles his eyebrows at me before opening his trig book. I stand and move around the table to sit next to Neil. He holds out the project list to me and I skim it.

               “The sun print project sounds pretty neat.” I say after I look over the page again. “And we could do it both inside and outside, during different seasons.” I shrug.

               “Sounds fine to me. And…” he takes the paper from me and looks over it himself. “we could make our own crystals.”

               I laugh. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

               He laughs and elbows me. It makes my stomach flip and I wrap my arms tightly around myself. It’s a bad habit I picked up, and I tend to do it when I’m nervous or feeling like I’m going to fall apart.

               Neil glances down and then back up to my face, but says nothing about it. “Any thoughts on the last project?”

               I don’t drop my arms, but instead lean closer to the paper. “Let’s turn milk into plastic.”

               Neil grabs his pencil and marks off the projects we’ve chosen. “We’ll start those later.”

               “Okay!” Charlie yells. “Now that you two are ahead of everyone else, could we please do what we came here to do?”

               I follow along with Cameron as he helps us with trig until we get to question four and I finally realize what I was doing wrong.  I flip to a new page and start writing my Latin assignment. The word I decided on is _feles_. Cat. The same as last year, and if he assigns it the year after, I’ll do it a third time. I’m writing quickly, seeing as I remember most of what I wrote last year, when Neil asks, “Are you doing your Latin? What happened to trig?”

            I look over at him “I finished it,” I tell him.

            “Really?”

            “You’re forgetting I have an extra ninety minutes in the library doing nothing while you’re at practice.”

            “Speaking of practice, guess who our coach is?” Charlie asks.

            I shrug. “I have no idea.” I turn to Cameron, and then Meeks, shrugging at both of them. “How would I know that?” I ask Charlie.

            “Mr. Keating, the Captain himself.”

            I’m about to respond when Neil grabs my paper and pulls it closer so he can read it. Without his glasses, he can’t read very well. He skims the page quickly and laughs. “ _Feles_ again?”

            I shrug again. “McAllister never said we couldn’t reuse words. It also makes it easier since I can kind of recycle old material.”

            We get back to work until Knox enters the room around quarter after nine. He closes the door gently behind him and leans against it. He looks really out of it.

            “How was dinner?” Charlie asks.

            Knox turns to us. His eyes are glossy. He’s starting to scare me. “Mhm?”

            “How was dinner?” Charlie repeats.

            “Terrible,” he says, slinging off his blazer and making for our table. “Awful.”

            “Why? What happened?” Charlie demands as Knox sits down across from me.

            He pauses. His eyes are still glossy as he stares down at the table. “Tonight, I met the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life.”

            That’s it. I crack a smile and joke, “That’s so sweet Knox, but you met me a long time ago.”

            Neil chuckles softly beside me. “Shut up Margaret,” Knox says, finally looking up from the table.

            I hold my hands up in surrender. “Whoa, alright, let’s not get mean here Overstreet.”

            “Wait, so what’s wrong with that?” Cameron asks.

            “She’s practically engaged. To Chet Danberry.”

            Chet Danberry used to go to school here before he flunked out. He left in the beginning of first semester last term. I only knew him in passing, but he certainly seemed like a jerk.

               “All the good ones go for jerks. You know that,” Pitts tells him.

               Dr. Hager enters the room then and tells us to get to our rooms. We pack up our stuff quickly and head out. Over the talking and shuffling, I hear someone ask “Did you see her naked?” and assume its Knox who sighs bitterly before I’m out the door and headed towards my room.


	3. Chapter 3

               By the end of the week, I am very prepared for the weekend. I always claim that the first and last week of the term are the worst. The first week, I’m not quite in the groove yet, and by the last week I’m ready for it to be over. We enter the English room. Mr. Keating is sitting at the desk in the front and waits until we’ve all filtered in to speak.

               “Everybody, open your text to page twenty-one of the introduction. Mr. Perry, will you read the opening paragraph of the preface, entitled ‘Understanding Poetry’?”

               Neil begins to read, and I open my notebook to a blank page. Keating stands up from the desk and moves to the board, drawing the chart Neil describes. I draw a rough version in my notes as reference.

               Keating turns from the board as Neil finishes reading. His eyes scan the room for a moment before he speaks.

               “Excrement.” This seems to get everyone’s attention, as they turn to him, confused. “That’s what I think of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. We’re not laying pipe, we’re talking about poetry.”

               I look down at my notes. I add an equal sign next to my graph and write _excrement_ next to it.

               “How can you describe poetry like American Bandstand? I like Byron, I give him a 42, but I can’t dance to it.”

               Laughter erupts from around the classroom. I turn and share an amused look with Charlie.

               “I want you to rip out that page.”

               I look up at him. He what? Can we do that? I glance over at Charlie again. He shrugs one shoulder.

               “Rip it out!” Keating shouts.

               I watch in shock as Charlie rips out his page and holds it over his head. Everybody turns when they hear it. He’s crazy. This is crazy.

               “Thank you Mr. Dalton. Gentlemen, tell you what, don’t just tear out that page, tear out the entire introduction-”

               Charlie is the first one ripping again and I look around the room. Keating continues to encourage us to rip these pages out, and slowly the class listens.                “It’s not the bible; you’re not going to hell for this! Make a clean tear; I want nothing left of it!” He leaves the room.

               Charlie reaches over and nudges my arm. “You heard him!”

               I take a breath and rip page after page out of my book. Oh God, we’re going to get into trouble for this.

               A paper ball buzzes past my face and hits Charlie’s desk. I crumple up one of my pages and throw it back in that general direction. It hits Hopkins, who turns and looks right at me. I smile and shrug. He throws a wad back at me and I swat it away.

               “What the hell is going on here?” I jump and turn. McAllister is standing there, looking around the room at us.

               Keating returns with a waste basket. I glance back and forth between them. McAllister looks uncomfortable and quickly excuses himself.

               I throw my pages away when the waste basket reaches me. Charlie spits out a piece I didn’t realize he was eating. He passes the basket to Pitts, and I watch as it makes its way around the room.

               Keating stops at Neil’s desk. “I see that look in Mr. Pitt's eye, like nineteenth century literature has nothing to do with going to business school or medical school. Right? Maybe.” I can’t help but think bitterly that it also has nothing to do with raising children. I lean back in my seat and try to draw myself back from the class. My arms wrap around my middle tightly. “Mr. Hopkins, you may agree with him, thinking ‘Yes, we should simply study our Mr. Pritchard and learn our rhyme and meter and go quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions.’ I have a little secret for you. Huddle up.” No one moves, so he has to repeat himself a bit louder. The boys all cram around him, but I don’t move. I don’t want to let go of myself just yet.

               “We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are all noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.” I find my eyes travelling to Neil as he says this. He looks so captivated by what Keating is saying. Is that true? Here we are, listening to bits of poetry, and I’m watching the boy I love. I close my eyes and try to force the thoughts from my mind.

               Keating dismisses us and I stay sitting for a moment as everyone moves around me. I open my notebook and scribble his last words: _that the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse_. I make a note to put this on a card and hang it up next to my other one.

               I run my hands over my face and groan quietly into them.

               “Hey.”

               I look up and see Neil has stopped at my desk. I’m glad my hands are still covering part of my face because I blush.

               “Do you know where the annuals are in the library?” He moves closer to my desk as Pitts moves behind him. Everyone is trying to hurry to lunch, and his statement helps my blush go away.

               “Do I know where the annuals are?” I repeat after dropping my hands. “Do _I_ , the girl who works at the library, know where the annuals are?”

               He smiles and shrugs slightly. “Show me where they are?”

               I stand and begin gathering my books. “Neil, we have to get to lunch.”

               “We’ll go right after.”

               I sigh and fight down a smile. “Alright, let’s go.”

               We make our way silently to the library. I take him through the aisles on the far right and up a short flight of stairs.

               “Here you are,” I tell him, gesturing at the red books in front of us. Every annual since the schools opening is here. Neil pulls one off the shelf, seemingly at random, and flips through it quickly.

               “What are you looking for exactly?” I ask him as he shelves the book and pulls out another one.

               “I want to find Mr. Keating,” he says. I set my books down on the empty shelf below the annuals and pull one out. I don’t find him in the index, so I put it back.

               It takes about fifteen minutes of random searching to finally find it.

               “Look!” Neil cries, moving the book towards me. I look at his picture and stifle a laugh.

               “Hasn’t changed much,” I joke.

               Neil snaps the book closed and heads to the front desk. He checks it out and is told to bring it back tomorrow. Annuals, along with most research materials, only have a 24 hour check out time.

               We make our way to the cafeteria, laughing over the picture and his biography beside it. Neil flips through the annual a couple times on our trip across the courtyard.

               “We found his senior annual in the library,” Neil tells them as we take our seats in the dining hall on either side of Charlie.

               Cameron takes it from him quickly and immediately laughs.

               Neil grabs a plate of chicken. “Listen to this: Captain of the soccer teal, editor of the school annual, Cambridge bound-”

               “Thigh man, and the Dead Poets Society,” I finish, taking a bite of my bread.

               “Man Most Likely to do Anything,” Cameron reads.

               “Thigh man,” Charlie repeats. “Mr. K was a hell-raiser!”

               I see the boys in white coming to clear away the main dishes and I grab another chicken breast before the platter is gone.

               “What’s the Dead Poets Society?”

               “I don’t’ know,” Neil says. “There was no other mention of it.”

               I take a bite of chicken, but am already feeling full. I glance up at the teachers table and notice Keating standing.

               “Why don’t we ask him? He looks like he’s on his way out?” I nod over towards the table when the others look up.

               Neil takes the book back from Cameron. “Come on,” he tells us, standing and hurrying after Keating, who is already ahead of us. I take one last bite of my roll before following behind Meeks.

               “Mr. Keating?” Neil calls when we enter the yard. “Sir?” He gets no response. I turn and share a quick look with Todd before he looks away quickly. How can he be roommates with Neil and not have come around yet?

               “O Captain, My Captain?”

               Keating turns. “Gentlemen.”

               I sigh and make the decision to stay next to Todd in the back. Maybe we have more in common than I think.

               Neil hands Keating the annual and Keating practically gasps when he sees his picture. “God,” he mumbles, turning away from us and kneeling on the grass. Neil follows him quickly. I turn to Todd again, but he avoids my gaze.

               “What was the Dead Poets Society?”

               “I doubt the present administration would look too favorably upon that.”

               “Why? What was it?”

               Keating looks up and around at us. “Can you keep a secret?” The others, minus Todd, kneel down behind Neil and wait for him to speak. “The Dead Poets were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life. That's a phrase from Thoreau that we'd invoke at the beginning of each meeting. You see we'd gather at the old Indian cave and take turns reading from Thoreau, Whitman, Shelley; the biggies. Even some of our own verse. And in the enchantment of the moment we'd let poetry work its magic.”

               That’s…that’s not at all what I imagined. I don’t know what I thought it was, but it wasn’t a secret gathering of rule breakers reading poetry to each other.

               I glance down at the others as Keating returns the annual to Neil and continues his walk across the yard.

               The bell rings, signaling lunch is over and we have only a couple minutes to get to History. I hit Cameron’s shoulder and he stands, along with the others.

               “I say we go tonight,” Neil says as he straightens up.

               “What?” I demand.

               “Tonight?” Charlie asks.

               Of course Neil wants to do this. I remember the way he was watching Keating in class earlier. He was eating up every word Keating said.

               “Wait a minute!”

               “Where’s this cave he’s talking about?” Pitts asks.

               “It’s beyond the stream. I know where it is.”

               I sigh. “Neil, that’s miles. We’ll be gone all night.”

               We start heading to the building with the other students across the yard. We don’t have much time to get to class now.

               “Sounds boring to me,” Cameron mumbles.

               “Don’t go!”

               “You know how many demerits we’re talking, Dalton?”

               “So don’t come, please!”

               “Look, all I’m saying is that we have to be careful.”

               “No shit, Sherlock.”

               Hager appears in the doorway, yelling to the stragglers, which aren’t many besides us, who are still making their way to the building. “You boys there, hurry up!” I slow my pace by a hair.

               Neil stops and turns to us. “Alright, who’s in?” He looks so excited. He wants to do this so badly. If no one will agree to this, if _everyone_ doesn’t agree to this, I know he’ll be crushed.

               “Hager’s right-”

               “Forget Hager! Who’s in?” he repeats.

               Cameron sighs, and immediately Charlie turns to Neil and exclaims, “I’m in!”

               “I’m warning you!” Hager yells and I’m starting to feel nervous. We have to head in. We’re going to get in trouble if we don’t go in.

               “Me too,” Cameron adds.

               “Count me in,” I say.

               Pitts moves around Charlie and starts jogging for the door. “I don’t know Neil.”

               “What?” Neil says as he follows him. The rest of us follow them.

               “His grades are hurting,” Meeks tells us.

               “Then you can help him.”

               “What is this, a midnight study group?” Pitts asks.

               Neil shakes his head as he keeps pace. I jog up to Knox, who doesn’t look too interested in this idea.

               “Forget it, you’re coming. Meeks, are your grades hurting too?”

               I take a glance back at Todd again. No one has asked him yet. Maybe they forgot he was here, or didn’t realize he came out here with us.

               We manage to make it to history on time, and Knox agrees to join us, in hopes that it’ll make the girl he met at the Danberry’s, Chris, swoon.

               After history we have study hall in the library. McAllister is watching over us today and he sits at the front of the room smoking his pipe. Neil asks me where he can find local maps and I point him in the right direction.

               McAllister looks up and I pull my chemistry book towards me and open it. Since it’s only Friday, I’m not too worried about getting all of my homework done tonight. I’m more nervous about sneaking out tonight.

               Neil comes back with a map and opens it on the table in front of us. He points to the map and whispers, “We’ll follow the stream to the waterfall. It’s right here. It’s got to be on the banks.”

               “This is starting to sound dangerous,” Cameron responds.

               “Why don’t you stay home then? Charlie asks.

               I want to raise my concerns to them, but I can’t. I want to go and I don’t want to go equally and I can’t put it into words. The closest I can get is if we get caught, all they’re going to see is the one girl on campus sneaking off with seven boys. Wait, seven? I glance around the table, then look over at the other tables. Todd is sitting by himself at the table in front of us. Why didn’t he sit with us?

               I nudge Neil. He looks down at me. “What?” he asks.

               “What about Todd?”

               McAllister tells us to be quiet and sit down. Neil glances around the room and spots Todd as I did, and makes his way over to him. They begin whispering and I go back to my chemistry. Meeks and I work together. He’s trying to explain to me how to properly use significant figures, but I can’t keep up. I keep stealing glances at Neil. Am I really willing to get caught off school grounds for him?

               Neil returns and slides onto the end of the bench.

               “Todd doesn’t want to read,” he tells us. “He wants to come but doesn’t want to read.”

               “Does that kid want to do anything?” Cameron asks with an eye roll.

               I shrug. “He doesn’t have to read, does he?”

               “He just wants to listen?” Pitts asks.

               “Yeah. He could take minutes or something.”

               “That’s fine, I think. That way he’s still participating,” Meeks adds, always practical, that Meeks.

               “Oh shut up, will you?” McAllister calls from the front. We quiet down and get back to work. I drop my books on my desk when I get back from the library and sit on my bed. I’m feeling funny and I lay flat on my back. I cross my ankles and stare up at the ceiling. It’s easy for me to put my finger on exactly what I’m feeling, after going a couple years being confused over it.

               My pieces are being picked up.

               It’s a weird way I discovered I look at myself. I figure it started when I first started at Henley Hall. At first I thought I was two pieces; the piece I was at home and the piece I was at school. But when I was expelled, it came to my realization that I was multiple pieces, and I was just moving them along with me. When I got here, I began feeling what I refer to as the process of pieces being put into place. With each friend I made, more pieces fit into place.

               And what I’m feeling now is that process, but the only thing I could consider contributing it to was our adventure to the cave tonight, but that hasn’t even happened yet.

               The bell rings for dinner and I drag myself to the dining hall. No one says anything about our plans, probably for fear of being overheard. My stomach drops as I think about it. I shouldn’t go. I really shouldn’t.

               I steal a peek at Neil from across the table. He literally looks like he’s glowing. He’s bouncing and talking to the others, his words coming out quick, rushed.

               I sigh and push my plate away. I don’t even like fish. Friday dinners were always fish. “Well, I’m done,” I tell them as I stand. “I’ll see you later.”

               I leave and go back to my room. I take out my English notebook and copy my newest Keating quote onto a note card and hang it up with the others. As much as I don’t want to, I start my chemistry homework. I should also look over the last chapter to review before Mr. Allensburg decides to give us a pop quiz on it.

               A while later, there’s a knock on my door.

               “It’s open,” I call. Thanks to the honor code here at Welton, doors don’t need to be locked, ever, unless somebody doesn’t like you.

               “Margo?” I turn to the door. “Can I come in?” Neil asks.

               I smile automatically. As strange as it was, I enjoyed it when the boys come to my room unannounced. “You know you don’t have to ask.”

               He opens the door just wide enough to squeeze through, and then all but closes it behind him. I clear my throat and he opens it a bit wider.

               “Thank you.”

               He sits down on my bed.  “We’re leaving at eleven,” he tells me. “You are still coming, right?”

               I glance down at my pencil. “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. I start tapping my pencil quickly against my book.

               “You don’t know?” Neil repeats. “You were for it earlier!”

               “I know, but I’ve been thinking, and I shouldn’t go.”

               Neil reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me from continuing my tapping. My hand immediately grows warm and I want him to let go and hold it tighter. “Why?” he asks.

               I drop my eyes to our hands. “If we get caught,”

               “We won’t get caught,” he interrupts. His hand tightens around mine. He moves to the edge of the bed, as close to me as he can get, and my stomach flips. I want to move my hand so I can wrap my arms around myself.

               “You don’t know that.”

               “We’ll be careful.”

               “But if we do get caught,” I continue staring at our hands. “Can you imagine how it would look? I could get expelled. I would get expelled.” Maybe I’m being a bit dramatic, but it’s hard to think around the fog he’s causing to cloud my mind. I wish he’d let go of my hand.

               “I promise we won’t get caught.” I turn to him. “Do you trust me?” he asks softly.

               “Of course,” I answer without a second thought.

               I can see a smile playing on his lips. “So you’re still in?”

               I sigh and give him a smirk. “If that’s what you want.”

               “Great!” He jumps up and releases my hand. My stomach flips again and now that my arm is free, I wrap them around my middle. “Listen for us outside your door. We’re just going to keep moving until we’re off the grounds. I checked out the map from the library, so we should be fine.”

               “Should be,” I repeat flatly.

               “I thought you said you trusted me.”

               “I do.”

               “Then don’t worry.” And with that, he’s gone, and the door is shut tightly behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Ten minutes to eleven, I dress back in my uniform and, after placing my hand against my window, I grab my coat.

               The bell is ringing eleven when I hear footsteps outside my door. I slip out and follow the others down the stairs. Hager’s old hunting dog barks, and Pitts drops a handful of treats for it. We hurry down the stairs and leave the building, with Charlie making sure the door closes quietly behind us.

               Once we’re outside, Neil takes off and we follow him silently across the yard and into the woods. We follow Neil in silence until he slows and says, “It should be around here someplace.”

               Everybody splits up, but doesn’t travel too far away from each other. Only three of us were smart enough to bring flashlights.

               I hear screaming from behind me and I jump. “What’s wrong?” I call. I then hear laughter and Charlie calling, “Meeks just got scared!”

               “I didn’t get scared! You jumped out at me!”

               “Yeah, and I scared you.”

               I roll my eyes and follow Todd, who was one of the three with a flashlight. After a couple minutes of quiet searching, Neil calls out that he’s found it and we gather inside it. The cave itself isn’t too large. There’s just enough room for all of us. It’s cold and damp, with water is dripping from the ceiling. Charlie and Knox head outside and grab some wood and Meeks tries to light a fire, but all it does is produce a bunch of smoke.

               “It’s too wet,” he says, sounding defeated.

               Pitts stands to switch seats and hits his head off the roof. He grabs his head and laughs. I laugh along with the others. “So, don’t ever stand up,” I tell him.

               “All right, forget the fire,” Neil tells them. He moves to the front of the cave, where he can stand upright.

               “No, no,” Meeks says. He’s managed to produce a small flame, that with some coaxing grows a bit larger, but it’s still giving off a ton of smoke.

               I’m starting to get cold. I didn’t think of this. It’s one thing walking from one building to another, but it’s cold, like really cold, here. I should have put on my wool leggings. I tug at my skirt, trying to make it cover as much as I can. Maybe if we’re not here long, it won’t be so bad.

               “I hereby reconvene the Dead Poets Society.” Neil starts. I cheer along with the others and clap my hands. “The meetings will be conducted by myself and the other new initiates now present,” he shines his flashlight on all of us, falling lastly on Todd. “Todd Anderson, because he prefers not to read, will keep minutes of the meetings. I'll now read the traditional opening message by society member Henry David Thoreau. _"I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."_  

              “I’ll second that!” Charlie interrupts.

               _"To put to rout all that was not life, and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.”_ There’s a silence that follows the end of Neil’s reading. Someone whistles softly. He starts flipping through the book. “And Keating's marked a bunch of other pages.”

               Charlie snatches the flashlight from Meeks and shines it to the floor. “Intermission! Dig deep. Right here. Lay it down.”

               “On the mud? We’re gonna put our food on the mud?” Cameron demands.

               “Meeks, put your coat down.

               He rolls his eyes and he slides his coat off. “Yes sir, use Meeks’ coat.”

               As soon as Meeks has his coat on the floor, they begin dropping food. I don’t have anything to contribute, and I laugh as half a roll hits the coat.

               “Who gave us this?” Charlie demands, shining his light on the roll I’m chuckling over.

               “I’m eating the other half!” Pitts declares. “You want me to put it back?”

               The cookies are gone quickly, and I tap Knox and ask him to hand me the box of raisins. “I don’t know Margo, I think we all wanted them,” he says sarcastically as he hands me the box. I dump a few into my hand, a few into my mouth, and set the box aside.

               “Did you even donate anything?” Charlie asks, shining the light in my face.

               “I don’t steal food from the dining hall,” I say, trying to sound superior, while blocking my eyes from the light.

               “Then put them back,” he demands, but he’s smirking.

               I nod “Okay, yeah, let me just throw them up.”

               Neil finishes his cookie and sets the book on the rock behind him. “Let’s skip the book for now. I have a great scary story.”

               “Go on then!” Knox tells him.

               “It was a dark and rainy night, and this old lady, who had a passion for jigsaw puzzles, sat by herself in her house at her table to complete a new jigsaw puzzle. But as she pieced the puzzle together, she realized, to her astonishment, that the image that was formed was her very own room. And the figure in the center of the puzzle, as she completed it, was herself. And with trembling hands, she placed the last four pieces and stared in horror at the face of a demented madman at the window. The last thing that this old lady ever heard was the sound of breaking glass.”

               “Oh god,” I groan, putting my head in my hands. I’m shaking now, partly because of the story, but mostly because of the cold.

               “It’s true. It’s true,” Neil tells us.

               “Well, I’ve got one that’s even better than that,” Cameron brags. Charlie laughs. “I do. There's a young, married couple, and they're driving through the forest at night on a long trip. And they run out of gas, and there's a madman on the-“

              “And he has the hand with the thing,” I interrupt, and quickly the others follow.

              “I love that story!”

              “I told you that one,” Charlie claims.

              They start arguing and I rub my legs through the fabric of my skirt. I’m usually grateful that it’s a thin material, but tonight I’m not.

              “Are you alright?” Neil asks.

             “I should have worn my leggings!” I cry, vigorously rubbing my legs. I am an actual idiot for not thinking about this earlier. Lesson learned.

            “Here,” Neil says, taking off his coat and draping it over my knees. It’s warm from his body and I’m grateful for it.

            “You’ll be cold,” I say, though I don’t want to give it back.

            “I’ll move closer to the fire,” he says with a shrug.

            I nod and tuck it around my legs. Charlie and Cameron have stopped arguing, and Pitts has picked up the book and begins to read:

            "In a mean abode in the shanking road, lived a man named William Bloat. Now, he had a wife, the plague of his life, who continually got his goat. And one day at dawn, with her nightshift on, he slit her bloody throat."

            “What is with all the violence?” I ask as the others laugh.

            “Oh, and it gets worse,” he says as Meeks takes the book from him.

            Charlie stands. “You want to hear a real poem?” Meeks offers him the book, but he pushes it away. “I don’t need that, keep it.”

            “Did you bring one?” Meeks asks.

            I snort. “Did you write one?”

            “Did you memorize one?” Neil asks.

            Charlie goes to the front of the cave, and clears his throat. He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out what looks like a page from a magazine. He slowly unfolds it, and I’m looking right at a centerfold.

            “Oh wow!”

            “Where did you get that?” Cameron demands.

            I roll my eyes and look at the ceiling. “Oh god,” I groan again. I don’t want to be looking at this naked woman.

            “What’s the matter Margo? Jealous?” Charlie asks with an eyebrow wiggle.

            I raise an eyebrow at him. “Can’t be jealous when I see the same thing every day, now can I?”

            The boys start hollering nonsense and I’m sorry said anything.

            Charlie clears his throat again and reads, “Teach me to love? Go teach thyself more wit. I, chief professor, am of it. The god of love, if such a thing there be, may learn to love from me.” Charlie winks at me before he folds up the picture. “Okay, so who’s next?”

               Neil grabs the book and flips it open. “Alfred Lord Tennyson,” he begins.

" _Come my friends,  
_                _'Tis not too late to seek a newer world  
__for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset.  
__And though we are not now that strength  
__which in old days  
__Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;--  
__One equal temper of heroic hearts,  
__Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will.  
__To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”_

               He looks up and around the circle. His eyes fall on mine and he smiles. “Margo, you’re up.”

               I sigh. “Alright, give me the book and give me a minute.” I flip through the pages. It looks like more than half the pages contain underlining, or stars, or some sort of marking. I skim through the table of contents and see the name Wordsworth circled, so I go to page 299 and find a short poem that seems good enough.

               “Okay, okay,” I say. “I found one. It’s by William Wordsworth.” I clear my throat and start.

“ _I travelled among unknown men,  
__In lands beyond the sea;  
__Nor, England! did I know till then  
__What love I bore to thee  
__Tis past, that melancholy dream!_ _  
              Nor will I quit thy shore  
__A second time, for still I seem  
__To love thee more and more  
__Among the mountains did I feel  
__The joy of my desire  
__And she I cherished turned her wheel  
__Beside an English fire  
__Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed  
__The bowers where Lucy played  
__And thine too is the last green field  
__That Lucy’s eyes surveyed._

               I look up from the book and meet Neil’s gaze. I don’t look away, even when the book is pulled from my hands. I can feel his hand on mine, his body close to mine. I find myself wondering what it would be like to be alone with him and able to just watch him, touch him, _be_ with him.

               “Alright!” Meeks says as he stands. “Enough with the sad stuff. I got something.” I look away from Neil as Meeks starts reading, well, more like chanting. I feel myself blush.

 _“I could not turn from their revel in derision.  
__Then I saw the Congo creeping through the black,  
__cutting through the forest with a golden track.  
__Then I saw the Congo creeping through the black-”_  

              Charlie interjects, whispering, “Meeks, Meeks,” again and again. Meeks repeats the last two lines. Someone pulls out a comb and starts blowing on it. Knox picks up a metal container and starts beating on it in tune. Neil and I start clapping in unison as we exit the cave. We slowly pick up on the lines and start to recite them back. We keep this up until we reach the edge of the woods. We immediately go silent as the school comes into view.

               The bell rings two while we’re jogging across the yard and I’m shocked that it’s so late. Thank god we can sleep in a bit tomorrow. We continue to go to the cave every week, sometimes more than once. We try to keep the outings on school nights short, but it’s hard when we’re having such a good time. 

 

A couple weeks after our first meeting, I find myself once again in the back of Keating’s classroom. He’s explaining to us the importance of word choice.

               “A man is not very tire, he is exhausted,” he tells us. “And don't use very sad, use-” He points towards the back of the room. “Come on, Mr. Overstreet, you twerp.”

               “Morose?” he says after a pause.

               “Exactly! Morose. Now, language was developed for one endeavor, and that is?  Mr. Anderson? Come on! Are you a man or an amoeba?” Todd doesn’t say anything, and I feel my heart go out to him. I hate being called on, and I don’t even have to problem speaking in public like he does.

               Keating gives him a chance to answer, but when he’s unable to, he turns away. “Mr. Perry?”

               “Uh, to communicate?” he guesses.

               “No!” Keating exclaims, before leaning in close. “To woo women.”

               I lean back in my chair and try not to sigh loudly as I roll my eyes. I should know better, and I shouldn’t get upset over things like this.

               The whole class groans, and I glance around. I have no idea what’s going on. “I know. A lot of you looked forward to this about as much as you look forward to root canal work. We're gonna talk about Shakespeare as someone who writes something very interesting. Now, many of you have seen Shakespeare done very much like this,” he holds his arm out and begins to speak in a heavy accent. "‘O Titus, bring your friend hither.’" But if any of you have seen Mr. Marlon Brando, you know, Shakespeare can be different.” He changes accents and recites another passage. I share a side glance at Charlie, who smirks at me.

               Keating sits on Meeks’ desk and calls for everybody to gather round. Chairs scrape the wood floor and everybody moves closer. I pull my chair to the edge of the half circle and try to force a laugh he begins to read, "Dogs, sir? Oh, not just now. I do enjoy a good dog once in a while, sir. You can have yourself a three-course meal from one dog. Start with your canine crudites, go to your Fido flambe for main course and for dessert, a Pekingese parfait. And you can pick your teeth with a little paw."

               He continues to read until class is about over. He directs us to move our chairs back to our desks. When we settle, he jumps up onto his own desk. “Why do I stand up here? Anybody?”

               “To feel taller!” Charlie shouts.

               I laugh and glance over at him. Keating tells him he’s incorrect. “I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way.” He moves slowly in a circle, taking in the entire room. Watching him makes me a bit dizzy, and I’m terrified he’ll fall. “You see, the world looks very different from up here. You don't believe me? Come see for yourself. Come on. Come on!”

               Charlie nudges my arm when he jumps up and passes me. I’m up quickly and follow him. Neil joins Keating on the desk. “Just when you think you know something, you have to look at it in another way. Even though it may seem silly or wrong, you must try!” Keating jumps down and Charlie takes his spot. “When you read, don’t just consider what the author thinks. Consider what you think.”

            Charlie jumps down. Neil turns to me and offers me his hand. I take it and allow him to pull me up. I glance around the room quickly. He’s right; things do look different up here. Neil jumps down and again offers me his hand. I grab it and try to land softly on the floor. I quickly let go of Neil and move back to my desk. The other boys continue to climb upon the desk and jump off. I go back to my desk.

               “You must strive to find your own voice. Because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all. Thoreau said, "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation." Don't be resigned to that. Break out! And don't just walk off the edge like lemmings. Look around you!”

               The bell rings and Keating makes his way towards the door. I start gathering up my things.

               “Now, in addition to your essays, I would like you to compose a poem of your own, an original work.”

               I groan along with a couple of others in the class. That sounds terrible, and I know immediately that I can’t do anything girly or stupid.

               Keating begins to flicker the lights on and off. I glance at the front desk. Only a couple more students are left to climb up.

               “And you have to deliver it aloud in front of the class on Monday. Bonne chance, gentlemen.” He leaves, but then sticks his head back into the room. “Mr. Anderson?” I glance over. Todd’s the only one left, and he falters in the desk when Keating calls to him. “Don't think that I don't know that this assignment scares the hell out of you, you mole.”

               Keating flips the light off, leaving Todd to jump down in the dark. Somebody starts snickering and I roll my eyes again.

               I wish they’d stop laughing at him.


	5. Chapter 5

That night I try to concentrate on my homework, but trig is giving me some problems. It’s almost lights out, so in the morning I make plans to head over to see Meeks, if I have to, Cameron, for some help.

               I push it aside and try to start my poem. I don’t even know what to write about. The only poems I’ve read that stick out to me are about love, and I can’t write one about that. Everybody would give me a hard time, and if I had to chose, I’d rather be ignored than made fun of.

               I spend the night writing and scratching lines, throwing away piece after piece of paper. I wonder if the others are having the same problem. I rip another page from my notebook and rip it up. It was describing Neil’s eyes and I _really_ can’t have that.

               I decide to push that aside too and just go to bed. The next morning I sleep through breakfast and wake around nine. I lay there, feeling comfortable under my blankets for a couple of minutes before the need to use the bathroom overpowers my want to be comfortable.

               I wash my face and brush my teeth while I’m in there, and dress quickly. On weekends, I’m not forced to wear my uniform, I just have to wear something that follows the dress code, so I’m in a dark blue skirt and a light yellow sweater.. Unfortunately, my hair still has to remain in a ponytail, so I pull my hair into a quick one before grabbing my trig book and making my way down the hallway.

               I knock on Meeks’ door and wait. There’s no answer, and after I knock again, I open the door and peak in. It’s empty. I close the door. Cameron it is then.

               But after no one responds to my knock there and I see their room is empty too. I let out a loud sigh. Where are they?

               I turn to leave, but decide to try one more door.

               This door opens and I’m looking right at Todd. Finally, there’s someone else in this building besides me.

               I smile. “Hi.”

               “Hi.” He moves away from the door and goes back to his bed. He’s the only one here, and I bet he was enjoying the alone time before I got here.

               “Where’s Neil?”

               He shrugs.

               “Do you know where anyone is?”

               “R-Rowing,” he tells me, not looking up from the notebook in his lap. He scratches out something on the paper and I step into the room.

               “Are you working on your poem for English?” I set my book on his desk and lean against the footboard of his bed.

               He shrugs again. He really doesn’t want me here, that much is clear. But I can’t stop myself from telling him, “I’m dreading having to read it in front of everyone. I wish we could just turn them in to Keating with our essays.”

               I swear I can see him almost smile. “Yeah.”

               There are voices coming from down the hallway. I pick up on Charlie’s voice as they grow closer and figure he’s telling off Cameron again. “I’ll talk to you later,” I tell Todd before leaving, closing the door behind me.

               “Cameron, hey,” I say when they get closer.

               Charlie raises his eyebrows. “Please tell me you weren’t waiting for him.”

               I can’t believe he thinks I would wait for Cameron anywhere. “Of course not,” I tell him. “I was talking to Todd.”

               Cameron snorts and opens the door to their room. I follow in behind Charlie. “You mean talking _at_ Todd, right?”

               I glare at him. “No. Todd was responding…monosyllable as his answers were, he still responded.”

               He looks shocked. I love seeing Cameron thrown off, seeing his expectations of reality shattered right before his eyes. “He actually spoke to you?” he repeats.

               I shrug. “Kind of. Anyway, did you do your trig last night?”

               “Of course he did!” Charlie interrupts from his bed. It’s unmade and if someone would have done a room inspection today, he’d have a demerit for it. “You know he can’t let his homework sit over the weekend.”

               “Hey, just because you like to do it at the last minute-”

               Charlie starts banging his hand against his bongos. I could never figure out why he brought them with him to school. I mean, besides annoying Cameron…never mind. “My homework gets done, just the same as yours-”

               “But I always-”

               I can’t take this bickering. Why are they even roommates? Did they not consider telling Hager to switch one of them out? “Enough!” I cry as the arguing continues. “I just need help with arc length.”

               “That’s it?” Cameron asks. Charlie rolls his eyes from his bed and I try not to laugh.

               Cameron takes my book and looks over the problems I’m having trouble with. He explains to me again what Hager told us in class, but this time it makes more sense. He watches me do one of the problems and explains what I’m doing wrong. As much as he annoys me, Cameron is a pretty good tutor.

               Though I still would rather have gone to Meeks.

               After about twenty minutes, I thank him, say goodbye to the both of them, and turn to leave. That’s when I hear shouting across the hall, coming from Todd’s room. I turn around and look at Charlie, who looks as surprised as I feel at the ruckus coming from behind their door.

               After a minute, Cameron sighs loudly and crosses the room, crosses the hall, and throws open their door.

               “What are you guys doing?” He demands. Charlie and I move to their door and peak in. “You see this?” Cameron holds up his book, and I’m sure he’s about to continue berating them, but Neil hurries forward and grabs the book from his hands.

               “Neil!” Cameron shouts as Neil darts back into the room. Cameron follows, Todd right behind him, and tries to grab his book back. I can’t help but laugh at how annoyed Cameron sounds, and at how much fun Neil and Todd seem to be having. “Don’t be immature!”

               Charlie bumps past me and starts bouncing on his toes. “Give it to me!” He shouts. “Give it to me!”

               Neil tosses it to Charlie and Cameron changes course. Todd and Neil continue bouncing around the room and I try to avoid being shoved by Cameron, who lunges for Charlie, but Charlie throws the book to Todd, who catches it and throws it quickly to Neil again.

               Cameron’s face is bright red and I’m sure mine is too, because I can’t stop laughing. I grasp my middle and bend over, trying to catch my breath.

               “What the hell is going on in here?”

               Everybody stops, and my laughter is cut short when Hager appears in the doorway. The other boys from the floor, who seemed to show up to watch the show, leave immediately, leaving just the five of us alone with Hager and his wrath.

               “Nothing,” Charlie says quickly. Cameron’s book is back in his possession. We just stand there until Hager turns to leave again. His eyes catch mine and he stops again.

               “Ms. Evanston, I was just on my way to inform you that you have a phone call.”

               “Who is it?” I ask, but my heart is dropping and I know what he’s going to say.

               “Your mother. Maggie is holding the call for you downstairs.”

               “Thank you,” I mumble. I follow him out of the room. I head downstairs and find Maggie in the office.

               “Afternoon Margaret,” Maggie, the morning secretary, greets me with a smile. Her blonde hair is tied up in a braided bun today. I’ve always been fascinated with how she does her hair so precisely.

               She picks up the phone and punches in the line my mother is waiting on. “Here you are.” She stands, takes a moment to straighten her dress, and then heads into the back part of the office like she usually does when we have personal phone calls.

               “Hello?”

               “There you are! I was wondering how much longer I’d be on hold.” I want to believe she’s joking, but I know my mother too well.

               “Dr. Hager had to come get me in my room. I’m sorry, mother. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

               “Not too long, I suppose.” She sighs into the phone and makes it clear that she _was_ waiting too long. “We haven’t heard from you in quite awhile.”

               Oh god. “I’ve been busy with school,”

               “You know you should call more often,” mother interrupts, berating me.

               “I’ve just lost track of time. I’m trying to do well and,”

               “I don’t want to hear excuses Margaret!” she interrupts again.

               I swallow hard. “Okay.” I grip the phone tightly in my hands. I want to wrap my arms around myself. I want this conversation to be over.

               “How is school going?” she asks after a moment, her voice sounding light again. “I hope you aren’t doing too well. We’ve talked about that. You don’t want the boys to be put off by you, especially Neil.”

               “Mother,”

               “Speaking of Neil, how is he?” We’re only speaking of Neil because you had to bring him up. You always bring him up. This is why I can’t be with him.

               I shrug, even though I know she can’t see it. “He’s good, I guess.”

               “You guess?” she repeats slowly. “Do you speak with him?”

               “Sometimes,” I tell her. “Mostly on our way to class.”

               She sighs again and I hear the gentle clicking of her tongue. “Margaret, dear. Men do not like women who play games. You have to speak with him. Do you sit by him in class, or at meals?”

               “Sometimes at meals,” I shrug again. My hands are cramping from holding the phone so tightly. “I sit behind him in English, and math. I sit in front of him in history and we’re lab partners for Chemistry.”

               “Good. Have you been wearing the makeup we bought you?”

               I cover the phone and sigh loudly, thinking back to the black and white case sitting under the sink in my room. “A bit.” I’m lying, of course. I haven’t opened it since I got here.

               “You know what this means to us. Try a bit harder, that’s all we want.”

               “I will,” I tell her. I’m still lying. God, why can’t they just leave me alone?

               “Thank you dear. Have a good weekend.”

               “Bye.”

               I hang up the phone, harder than I probably should, but I don’t care. Maggie re-enters the room a moment later and looks me over. “Bad call?” she asks quietly, sitting back down at her desk.

               “I’ve had worse,” I reply looking over at her. My voice is thick. I shrug. “Have a good afternoon,” I tell her as I leave. I climb the stairs back to the dorms slowly, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. What a terrible day this is turning out to be.

               I open my door and go to close it behind me when something catches it.

               “Hey!” I don’t have to look to know its Neil, but I look anyway. He’s smiling widely, bouncing lightly. Out of everybody, why does it always have to be him?

               “Hi.”

               His smile drops slightly. “What’s wrong?”

               Am I really that easy to read? “Nothing.”

               He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. “Was it your phone call?”

               “I’ve had better conversations with my mother,” I pause, and then shrug. “But I’ve also had worse.”

               “Are you okay?”

               I almost shrug again, but stop myself. “Yeah, it’s just…I don’t know.”

               He nods. “I know.” He pushes off the doorframe. “Let me guess. You haven’t called enough.”

               I can’t help but smile. “Of course.”

               “One for one! Okay, and she asked after me, that’s a given. Asked if we talk or if we sit together?”

               I laugh and roll my eyes. “How do you know that?”

               He raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Your mother has a one track mind.” Tell me about it. “Well, next time you talk to her, tell her we sit together all the time, and I can’t keep my eyes off you.”

               I feel my cheeks burn. “She’ll know I’m lying. You know I can’t lie.”

               “Part of it’s a lie.”

               Oh god, why did he have to say that? I look away from him, down to the floor. I want him to leave. Why did he have to say anything ever? I would have thought a rejection would have sent him away for good, but here he is, still my friend, still dropping lines like this like it’s nothing.

               “I’m sorry,” he says after a moment of silence.

               I look back up at him. He looks sorry. “Was there a reason you stopped by?” I ask, ignoring his apology.

               He seems confused for a moment, before a look of realization comes over his face. “Oh, yeah. I’m heading to Henley Hall. They’re having open tryouts for _A Midsummer Night’s Dream._ ”

               I raise my eyebrows. “And your father is okay with that?”

               He sighs, looking annoyed. “Don’t be like Todd. I’m not going to ask his permission. You know what’ll happen.”

               I remember him being yelled at for trying to attend a summer program for acting a couple years ago. I remember his father telling Neil to get his head out of the clouds, and to think about his future; think about the sacrifices he made for Neil.

               “I’m trying out for Puck. I was hoping you’d wish me luck.”

               I smile. “I thought I was supposed to say ‘break a leg’?”

               His smile returns, and I just now notice how his eyes crinkle when he smiles so widely. He takes a step back and enters the hallway. “I have to get going if I’m going to make it on time.” 

              “Break a leg.”

               “Thanks!” He takes off down the hallway, and I swear I can hear him humming as he goes.

               I watch him until he’s out of sight. I sigh heavily and lean against my doorframe. My heart is pounding against my ribs and I want to scream, but instead I take a deep breath and shut my eyes tightly. I don’t know anything about _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_.

               I quickly pull my door closed behind me and decide to go to the library. I ignore Ms. Black when I arrive and make a beeline for the plays. I finger over the titles until I find what I’m here for, and pull it off the shelf. I read the information on the back and skim through it. What am I even doing here? Why am I looking at this stupid play that maybe Neil will have a role in, or maybe he won’t?

               I slam the book back onto the shelf in disgust. I’m not sure who I’m more upset at; myself, my mother, or Neil.

               I take a stroll around the shelves, trying to clear my mind. I know I’m dawdling to return to my room, where I think of the homework I have left with a sinking stomach. I take a glance through the fiction section, and a book stands out to me. I grab it off the shelf. It’s by a woman named Elizabeth Gaskell. I open it and skim the front flap. It’s a collection of short gothic stories that sound surprisingly interesting.

               I take it to the front and get it checked out before returning to my room. I set it on my desk and crawl into bed. Today has been weird and I just want to take a step back from it for a while.

               I don’t know how long I lay there. I think I fall asleep because the next thing I know, my room is a blazing mixture of orange and red. I lay there, groggy. The events of early try to come to the front of my mind, but I push them back. I don’t want to think about them. I don’t want to think about anything.

               At least I’m comfortable here under my blankets.

               My heart leaps at the thought. No, my blankets…my blankets offer _solace_. I roll over onto my stomach. I’m safe here. I-

               I sit up quickly and grab for a notebook. I find one and turn to a blank page and start writing down the lines that come to me, before they disappear. I scratch out one line and rewrite it, and then rewrite another one.

               I look at it when I think I’m done. I want to add more, but I can’t think of anything else that would add, and not take away from, it.

               I quickly count the lines I have. Ten. I stare at it for another moment, and then cross out the last line. Nine.

               That’ll have to be good enough. I can’t do any better.

               I drag myself out of bed and rewrite the poem in its entirety. I stare at it again. I don’t know-

               There’s a pounding on my door, followed by shouts and footsteps that fade quickly. I hurry to the door and jerk it open. I can see a group of people down the hallway, and there’s more shouting and I don’t know what’s happening, so I move closer.

               I’ve just reached Charlie’s room and am about to ask him what the hell is going on when Neil turns around and shouts “Margo!”

               “What?” I shout back, confused.

               “I got the part!” He shouts, and suddenly we’re running towards each other. My arms wrap around his neck and his arms wrap around my waist and I have never felt so content in my life and I want this moment to last forever.

               He’s laughing, and I feel my feet leave the floor as he spins me around once before they find the floor again and I take my arms from his neck and place them on his chest.

               “Don’t, I’ll get dizzy!” I tell him, smiling so wide it hurts my cheeks. “I’m so proud of you!” I pull away just enough to see his face. Then we’re staring at each other. We’ve never been this close; I can honestly feel his heartbeat under my hands and its pounding. My head is spinning and my body feels warm and comfortable with his arms around me.

               The silence of the hallway is what drags me from his grasp. I take a step back and force myself to smile as I ask over my shoulder. “Charlie, you gonna help him with his lines? You can read Oberon.”

               “You know Shakespeare?” Charlie asks with a laugh.

               “I did some research.” I feel the need to turn to Neil, and when I do, he’s just watching me. I can see a smile playing on his lips. “When do rehearsals start?” I ask.

               He blinks quickly, and clears his throat. “M-Monday,” he replies, and I feel my stomach drop when I hear him stutter.

               I can feel eyes on my back. I can see Todd staring at us over Neil’s shoulder. Why can’t they go away?

               “I should…I have homework.” What a pitiful thing to say.

               He nods. “Yeah. Me too.” He lowers his voice. “And I have to write a permission letter from my father.”

               I force myself to smile. “Good luck.”

               He smiles back, but I swear it’s forced as well. “Thanks.”

               I turn and head back to my room, ignoring Charlie’s gaze as I walk past.


	6. Chapter 6

I force myself to do homework the rest of the night, and I spend Sunday in my room. I review for class in the morning, and read the book I got from the library. I try to convince myself that it’s because I’m interested in the book, and not because I’m avoiding Neil. The book itself is interesting, but if I didn’t have a better reason to be reading it, I wouldn’t be flying through it.

            I can’t stop thinking about how stupid I am. There were boundaries that I set up for Neil that keep getting pushed. How am I supposed to keep him at a distance when I _can’t_ keep him at a distance?

            Monday morning at breakfast, everybody’s talking about their English poems and I regret what I’ve written. It’s stupid. It won’t make any sense to anyone besides-

            I look up across the table to Neil. I catch his eye and he quickly looks away. Something strikes me. What was it he said Saturday? He couldn’t keep his eyes off me? Was that the truth? It must have been, seeing as we don’t sit together in class.

            My face burns. I drop my spoon and wrap my arms around myself tightly. Meeks, who’s sitting next to me, looks down at the movement and asks, “You okay?”

            I nod quickly. “I just… _really_ don’t want to read my poem,” I lie.

            I see the others nod. Apparently reading other people’s work is one thing, but when it’s your own, you’re vulnerable. You show people who you are, what you think. It’s like they can read your mind.

            The bell rings and as we stand, I sneak another peak at Neil. My stomach flips as I do and I bite my lip hard. I tell myself to not be stupid. Don’t let him get to you anymore than he has.

            Mr. Allensburg is going on about something and I can’t concentrate. My eyes drift to the back of Neil’s head one too many times and I miss most of the lecture. We sit on opposite sides of the room in Latin, so even if I wanted to look (which I did, unfortunately) I couldn’t. In trig I find myself staring again and the empty page at the end of class makes me feel sick.

            It was that stupid hug, I decide on the way to English. If I wouldn’t have hugged him, none of this would be happening. I just have to get better at hiding again.

            “I hope you all brought your poems!” Keating calls out as he enters the room. I pull my paper out and set it on the desk. “Who’s first?” He claps his hands together. “Any volunteers?”

            I immediately look down at my paper and pretend to write something. Anything but first, anything but first, anything-

            “Mr. Pitts! Rise above your name!”

            I let out a sigh of relief as Pitts stands and read his poem, which is only a couple lines about his dog, Musky. It’s simple and Keating seems satisfied. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

            More boys get called up, and I’m trying to shrink behind Pitts. Maybe Keating will forget about me and I’ll be spared. The poems range from silly, to romantic, to slightly inappropriate, but Keating never has a strictly negative thing to say about them.

            Neil reads a poem about the color yellow, and he’s followed by Meeks who wrote a poem about mechanics that I can barely follow.

            When Knox gets called up a couple boys later, I hear Charlie laugh quietly to himself. Knox stands awkwardly at the front and I can see his face is bright pink. I share a look with Charlie and cover my mouth to keep from laughing myself.

            “To Chris,” he reads and I see Charlie smirking from the corner of my eye. I keep my hand over my mouth to hide my smile.

            “Who’s Chris?” I hear someone whisper.

            “Mmm, Chris.” I press my hand harder against my mouth and struggle not to laugh. Pitts turns around with a questioning look and I wave him away with my free hand.

 _“I see a sweetness in her smile._  
_Bright light shines from her eyes._  
_But life is complete;_  
_Contentment is mine  
_ _Just knowing that-”_

Someone starts laughing up front and Knox looks up quickly. It starts a chain reaction of snickering across the room.

_“Just knowing that she’s alive.”_

            The snickering gets louder and I’m quietly laughing behind my hands. I had no idea his feelings for her was so intense. I try to gain control of myself. Like my poem is any better.

            Knox crumples his paper on the way back to his seat. Charlie pats him heavily on the back and when Keating stands, my eyes find Neil and my laughter stops. Pitts shifts in his seat, so I lean to the left and watch continue to stare at the back of his head as Hopkins stands and reads his pathetic poem of “The cat sat on the mat.”

            Keating stands up again and I force my eyes away from Neil. Enough of that; enough of him.

            “Congratulations, Mr. Hopkins,” Keating says. “Yours is the first poem to ever have a negative score on the Pritchard scale. We’re not laughing at you; we’re laughing near you,”

            I lean over and whisper behind my hand to Charlie, “I’m laughing at him.”

            “Ms. Evanston?”

            I straighten up quickly, my face burning. Oh god, no.

            “You’re up.” Keating tells me with a smile as he moves back to the front of the room.

            My hands start shaking as I take my paper and stand. Neil looks over his shoulder at me and smiles. I look away quickly. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at anyone.

            I make it to the front of the room without tripping and turn to Keating. Someone is snickering and if it’s Charlie, I’ll kill him.

            “Ignore them, ignore them,” he tells me, motioning for me to face the class. My heart is pounding and my face is still burning. I hate being the center of attention. I clear my throat and start.

            _“Tonight  
__The blankets of my bed offer me solace.  
__Beneath the fabric I am safe  
__To forget there are pieces that have fallen out of place.  
__I want nothing more than to become one with the threads.  
__My thoughts become trapped here, like flies against a windowsill.  
__My actions are a waste.  
__I can never escape the route laid out before me.  
__And it is here, under a webbing of thread and fabric, that I am forced to recognize  
__That I am a figment for someone else’s dream.”_

            The silence that follows makes my ears ring. I glance up and around the classroom to make sure I’m not completely alone. I’m met with surprised, bored, and unreadable faces. I can’t force myself to look at Neil, and instead focus on Todd, who has one of the unreadable expressions on his face.

            “Well done, Ms. Evanston.” Keating says, standing up from the windowsill he’s been on all class. “Very insightful.”

            I take this as my cue to sit and rush back to my seat. I see Neil follow me with his eyes as I pass him and I start ripping up my paper before I’m fully seated. What a stupid poem. _Well done_ , yeah right.

            “I, I didn’t do it. I didn’t write a poem.” I barely hear Todd say. Keating goes to the board and I concentrate on ripping this paper as small as I can. I don’t want this to be reconstructed. I glance up and Todd is at the front of the room, and I’ve never seen anyone look more uncomfortable than he does right now. He can’t even raise his eyes to the class.

            I look away and start gathering up my paper shreds into a pile.

            “Yawp!” Todd shouts and I jump in my seat. I didn’t know that boy had a volume above a quiet speaking voice.

            “There it is!” Keating exclaims. “You see, you have a barbarian in you after all.”

            It looks like Todd rolls his eyes before trying to sit back down. It might have been easier if he just wrote a poem.

            Keating grabs his arm to stop him and spins him around. “The picture of Uncle Walt up there: what does he remind you of? Don’t think. Answer. Go on.”

            “A m-madman.” Todd answers, turning in place to watch Keating, who is moving around him.

            “What kind of madman? Don’t think about it. Just answer again.

            “A crazy m-madman.”

            “No, you can do better than that. Free up your mind. Use your imagination. Say the first thing that pops into your head, even if it’s total gibberish. Go on, go on.”

            My eyes keep darting back and forth between the two of them. This is weird, and really intense.

            Todd stutters from a moment, then forced out, “A sweaty-toothed madman.”

            “Good God, boy, there’s a poet in you after all. There, close your eyes,” Keating steps closer to Todd and motions for him to close his eyes. “Close ‘em. Now, describe what you see.”

            Keating places his hand over Todd’s eyes when he doesn’t comply and slowly starts to spin in a circle. I glance around the room quickly, not wanting to miss anything, but I have to see how everyone else is responding. Every pair of eyes is on the two up front. I glance over at Charlie, and he’s actually watching them with genuine interest. What is going on?

            “Now, give him action. Make him do something,” Keating says. They’re spinning a bit faster now.

            “H-his hands reach out and choke me.”

            “That’s it. Wonderful,” Keating says softly, removing his hand from Todd’s eyes, but he keeps them closed tight.

            “And, and all the time he’s mumbling.”

            “What’s he mumbling?”

            “M-mumbling truth. Truth is like, like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.”

            Someone starts laughing and Todd opens his eyes and they dart around the room. Keating steps forward and forces him to close his eyes again.

            “Forget them. Stay with the blanket. Tell me about that blanket.”

            “Y-y-you push it, stretch it, it’ll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it’ll never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face as you wait and cry and scream.”

            There’s silence for a long moment. I can’t believe that came from Todd. I rub at my arms, trying to get the goosebumps I didn’t realize I had gotten to go away.

            Todd opens his eyes and they dart around the room. Someone in front of me, probably Neil, starts clapping and I join in quickly. Todd sweeps the room again and smiles.

            The bell rings and everybody jumps up and starts leaving the room. Todd heads back to his seat and I gather up my books. Keating says something to Todd, and then Todd comes down the aisle, heading towards the door, and he’s still smiling. I nudge him as he passes and he turns to me.

            I smile when I tell him, “I’m sure glad you went last. That was great!”

            “Thanks,” he says, and I think that’s the first time he’s spoken to me without stuttering.

            “Ms. Evanston?”

            I freeze mid-step towards the door and turn. Keating is still at the front of the room, and he too is gathering his things.

            “Stay back a moment, would you?” he asks.

            Charlie nudges me on his way out the door, and I look away when Neil passes me. I’ve probably have looked at him enough for one day.

            I slide back into my seat and wait for everyone to leave. I rack my brain, trying to think if I did anything wrong. It was probably my stupid poem. I should have written about a flower, or something, anything, else.

            I clasp my hands tightly under my desk as the last stragglers file out to lunch. I want to wrap my arms around myself, but Keating is approaching me and I can’t move. Why am I so terrified?

            He sits on the desk in front of me, and I wait for him to speak.

            “Do you enjoy my class?” I’m startled by his question and my mind starts spinning. Is this a trick? Why does he want to know?

            “I have a good grasp on how your peers feel when they’re sitting here. But you,” he points at me, like maybe I’m confused as to whom he’s referring. “You I can’t get a reading on.”

            I shrug. “I like your class, I guess.”

            “You guess?” Keating responds and my face burns. I knew this was a trick. “Do you know I can see every student from the front of the room?” I shrug again and nod my head once. “Then you must know I can see every time you roll your eyes.”

            My throat tightens and I fight to keep my arms at my sides and not wrapped around myself. “I’m sorry,” I force out.

            He laughs and waves my apology away. “You aren’t in trouble Margaret. I’m just trying to understand.”

            I shrug for a third time. “I do enjoy your class. It’s just…” I trail off and look down at my hands. I want to crawl to my room and never come out. This is so embarrassing.

            “Just?” he pushes.

            I force myself not to shrug again as I look back up at him. “I’m not supposed to like learning,” I confess, and it’s like a weight has been pushed off my chest, like a piece has been put back into place.

            Keating’s eyebrows jump and he’s clearly surprised at what I’ve said. “Who said you can’t like learning?”

            I’ve gone this far, might as well go the distance. “My mother. And my father. To be honest, I don’t even know why they’re bothering. All they want from me is to, uh,” I clear my throat. My voice sounds thick and I can feel pressure building behind my eyes. I would really like to not cry. “They want me to marry Neil Perry.”

            There’s a pause, and I think he’s trying to process what I’ve said. “You could always do worse.”

            I shrug. “Maybe, but I would like to be able to make that decision myself. I want to make choices, not follow orders.”

            “Have you told them this? What you’ve just told me?”

            I can’t help but laugh. “Of course I have. It doesn’t do anything more than cause trouble though, and I don’t want to cause trouble.” My eyes are watering. Why am I telling him all this? Keating slides into the chair in front of me. He’s watching me closely and I wonder what he’s thinking; the secret thoughts he wouldn’t dare speak. I want out of here. I’m skipping lunch and history and work, and maybe even dinner. I can’t be here.

            “What else do you want? Besides making your own choices?”

            “That’s all,” I tell him quickly.

            He raises his eyebrows again. “Really.”

            I sigh and lean back in my chair. “Well, I don’t like being ignored.” My face is still burning, but the stinging in my eyes is disappearing. I still want to be anywhere else but here, but at least I don’t feel sick talking to him.

            “You feel ignored?” Keating asks, drawing me from my thoughts.

            I glance down at my hands, still tightly clasped under the table. My knuckles are turning white. “Well, yeah. I mean, just because I’m the only girl here doesn’t mean I get special attention or treatment, just extra rules. Announcements here always start with ‘gentlemen,’ which I understand, but it still sucks.” I probably shouldn’t have said that. “Even in class, it’s always ‘boys’ or ‘gentlemen’ and it’s like I’m not even there. I mean, a couple days ago you told us poetry was for wooing women.” I look up at him. “Why would I want to woo a woman?”

            Keating silently watches me for a moment. “I see your point.” He’s silent for another moment before he stands. “It’s getting late, and you’ll want to have lunch, I’m sure. Perhaps we’ll have another chat?”

            I force my hands apart and flex my fingers. “Sure.”

            He makes his way down the aisle towards the front of the room. “Mr.-” I pause. “Captain?” The word feels funny in my mouth, but he turns back to me as if I’ve spoken his name. “Was this just between the two of us?” I ask.

            “Of course.”

            “Mr. Nolan or Dr. Hager won’t hear about this?”

            “Only if you wish to tell them.”

            I begin to gather my books.

            “And Ms. Evanston?” I glance up at him. “No more rolling your eyes.”

            My face burns again as I nod. “Yes sir.” I quickly grab my blazer from the back of the chair and leave the room.

            I’m so relieved to be out of the room that I take a second to relax. I lean against the wall and hold my books tightly around my chest. More pieces have been put back into place.

            I lower my books and shake my head. The bell rings and I decide to head for class. I’m not feeling as upset as before and it’s probably for the best I don’t miss.

            I’m the first to the room, and I can tell the others enter the room when I hear Charlie exclaim. “Well, there you are!”

            I look over my shoulder at him as he sits down in his chair. “Here I am,” I respond.

            “What happened?” Meeks asks as he drops his books on his desk in front of me.

            I shrug. “Nothing really; he just wanted to talk to me about class.”

            Neil sits down at his desk next to me and leans towards me. My heart pounds and I have to force myself to look at him. “Everything’s okay?” he asks quietly. His look darker than usual and I can’t figure out why.

            I nod quickly, almost jerky. “He just wanted to talk,” I assure him.

            He nods once. “Okay.”

            Mr. Alberts enters the room at the bell and begins class. Neil turns to the front of the room and I force myself to do the same.

            But, of course, I spend most of class peaking over at him out of the corner of my eye.


	7. Chapter 7

That night after dinner I head to the lounge and sit at our usual table. We have a chemistry test the following day and Meeks promised we’d all pass with flying colors after his study session. I open my book to chapter seven and start skimming through it. I am so nervous for this test.

            Charlie drops his books on the table and sits heavily in the chair next to me.

            “Hi,” I say. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, a smirk forming on his face. I feel my own face blush. “What?” I demand. Why is he looking at me like that?

            His eyes flicker up towards the door and I follow them. Pitts is entering the room, carrying his chemistry book under one arm and his radio under the other. He sits at the end of the table and greets us without looking up.

            Charlie turns back to me. “Maybe you can explain something to me,” he whispers.

            I shrug. “Maybe?” I respond. What is he getting at? And why was he suddenly whispering? In fact, until this moment I didn’t know Charlie knew how to whisper.

            “What does it mean when a girl spends all day staring at the same boy?” he asks, raising his eyebrows quickly, not to mention he’s in full blown smirk mode.

            I immediately know what he’s talking about, and I can feel the adrenaline rushing through my body so quickly it feels like I’m about to throw up.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I manage to choke out after a few moments.

            “I think you do.” He’s still smirking. I hate his smirk. I hate him. “You’re forgetting I sit next to or near you in class.”

            “So you were watching me?” I try to joke. I don’t want to talk about this. I can’t talk about this. More boys are entering the room and sitting around us, and any one of them could overhear us. Why would he bring this up now?

            “When it looks like you’re going to fall from your seat, yeah, I watch. But you didn’t answer my question.”

            I lower my eyes back to my book. Stupid Charlie. Stupid, observant, can’t keep his mouth shut Charlie. “I think you know,” I confess softly.

            “I think I do.” He agrees. “Why don’t you just tell him?”

            I raise my head to look at him and see Neil enter the room. We make eye contact and he smiles. I turn to Charlie quickly. “I can’t, okay? Now, please, drop it,” I beg.

            Neil sets his books on the table across from me. “Drop what?” he asks, pulling out his chair and sitting down. He’s wearing a white short sleeved shirt that looks so good on him it pains me.

            “Charlie thinks we’re all going to fail tomorrow,” I say quickly. I turn back to Charlie. “Isn’t that right?” Please, please keep your damn mouth shut.

            He rolls his eyes after a pause that feels way too noticeable and shrugs. “The other tests have been hard,” he says.

            “No one’s failing anything!” Meeks says from behind Neil. “Now open your books to chapter seven.”

            I sigh in relief. But I still hate Charlie.

 

I finish my test early the next morning, so I stand outside the classroom with Meeks while we wait for the others to filter out. We discuss questions and answers, and judging by what Meeks says he wrote for answers, either I actually passed with flying colors, or Meeks failed his first test.

            Cameron exits the room and makes his way straight to Meeks, asking about his answers and I stop paying attention. The test wasn’t as hard as I was expecting, and I can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing.

            Knox and Charlie exit at the same time. Meeks turns away from Cameron and asks Charlie, “Still think we all failed?”

            Charlie glances over at him, looking confused. My stomach drops when I realize he doesn’t remember. He’s going to mess everything up. He’s going to ruin everything. He’s going to tell them all. Oh god.

            He turns to me with that stupid smirk on his face and I wait for it. I wait for him to say something about last night, about Neil, but instead he says, “I guess we’ll find out.”

            My stomach is twisting, and I’m relieved when the bell rings and we head for Latin. I keep my eyes to myself during class. It was bad enough Charlie noticed, I don’t need anyone else noticing too.

            By the time the day is over, I’m exhausted because it seems like any time I make eye contact with Charlie, he’s smirking, and it’s putting me on edge. Like any moment, he’s going to stand on his desk and shout what he knows to everyone. The boys go to practice and I head to the library, where I return my book. I think about getting another one, but I really don’t have the time for outside reading.

            After work, I go back to my room. I don’t even want to go to dinner because I’ll have to see his stupid, smug face.

            I slam my trig book on my desk and leave in a fury to Charlie’s room. This has to end. I have to tell him to knock it off. It’s only been one day and I’m already going insane. Who knows what a week will do to me, or a month.

            I pound on the door and Cameron answers it a moment later.

            “What?” He demands. Looking at him is ticking me off too, and he didn’t even do anything.

            “Charlie, can I talk to you in the hallway please?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

            He turns to me, and raises an eyebrow, but stands and makes his way across the room. He closes the door behind him and I’m sure Cameron is listening against the door, so I take a couple steps down the hall.

            “Why are you doing this?” I ask. I turn around, and see he’s leaning against the wall between his room and the one Meeks shares with Pitts.

            “Doing what?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

            “You know what! You’re making it obvious that you know some big secret, and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand waiting for you to blurt it out to the entire school!”

            His eyes narrow. “How long have we known each other?” he demands.

            “I don’t know, I can’t-”

            “It’s been six years.” He tells me. How the hell does he remember that? “Do you really think I’d do that?”

            “I don’t know Charlie!” My voice cracks and suddenly I’m terrified I could start crying any moment. This is stupid. This is terrible. But he looks more alert, more serious. I’ve gotten his attention somehow. “I’m begging you, don’t say anything. Please.”

            He pushes off the wall and closes the few steps between us. “I’ll stop,” he says. I wrap my arms around myself and he grabs my shoulders. “Don’t do that,” he tells me. I’m glaring daggers at his chest, but I want to believe him. “I mean it.”

            I glance up at him. He still looks serious. There’s no trace of a smirk, he’s not wiggling his eyebrows; he’s just watching me.

            “Promise?”

            “I promise.” He releases me, but doesn’t move away. “I know he feels the same way.”

            I look away. Maybe he thinks this is helping, but it’s only making things worse. “I know,” I whisper to the floor.

            There’s a pause. I don’t think he expected me to say that. I wonder how he knows. Did Neil tell him, or was it just a lucky guess? “I don’t know why you won’t tell him,” he finally says.

            “I can’t.”

            “Why?”

            “I just can’t.” I square my shoulders and force myself to look him in the eye. “And I don’t want to talk about it anymore. No more questions. You promised.”

            He watches me for a moment, and then sighs. “Fine.”

            I nod once before I turn and head back to my room. I’m feeling better, and I’m glad I worked up the nerve to talk to him.

            But I still hate him.

 

The rest of the week, Charlie does as he promised and stops acting like he knows something everybody else doesn’t, and I’m grateful. I’m so grateful that I let him copy my trig homework twice when he doesn’t feel like doing it. Meeks gives me a lecture about being caught cheating, but I don’t care.

            “Good afternoon gentlemen!” Captain calls as he enters the room behind us. I start to roll my eyes when he adds, “and lady.”

            I glance over at him and smile. Since our talk about a week ago, I’ve been noticing slight changes in his speech, and it makes me feel…important, I suppose. He took my words to heart.

            Everybody settles in their seats as he drops a stack of books on the front desk.

            “Last night, I was in my office, reading, and I thought to myself, you know, I have not seen a single one of you with a book that wasn’t required.” He starts pacing in front of the classroom and I glance around. What is he getting at?

            “Who has read for pleasure in the last week?” He asks as he starts pacing through the aisle, his head turning in all directions as he walks. “The last month?”

            No one speaks. My hand is itching to rise, but I don’t let it. Let someone else answer.

            “No one?” he demands, sounding more shocked than angry. “Come on! One of you must have read for pleasure recently.” Surely he realizes, or remembers, how much work we’re given each night.

            I see Charlie raise his hand from the corner of my eye, but Captain waves it away. “No, Mr. Dalton, what you read does not count.” The room laughs and Charlie shrugs with a smirk and lowers his hand. “Come on, anybody?”

            There’s another pause, and Captain looks close to losing his mind. I take a deep breath and slowly raise my hand. He sees the movement and takes a quick step forward, pointing at me. “Ms. Evanston!” The room turns to look at me. Damn it. Why did I have to volunteer? “Finally! What was it?”

            I lower my hand quickly. “A collection of gothic tales by Elizabeth Gaskell.” I tell him.

            “Elizabeth Gaskell,” he repeats, and I nod. “Did you like them?”

            I shrug. “Some of them.”

            “Which one did you like best?”

            “The Poor Clare.” I answer quickly. I can feel my face turning red, and I hope he won’t quiz me on the story. “The idea of a doppelganger…it was really creepy.”

            “Excellent!” He claps his hands and turns to the class again. “Come on, anyone else?”

            After a pause, Meeks raises his hand and asks if mechanics manuals count, and Captain tells him only if it was reading for fun. Neil raises his hand next, and speaks of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Two other boys, James Ackerwood and Daniel Hilters, tell the class about the books they’ve read and Captain seems pleased that at least some of us read outside of class.

            At the end of class, Captain tells us, “While it’s not truly for entertainment, I want each of you to find a novel and read it over the next couple weeks. We’ll do in class writings and at the end you’ll write me a report with a detailed summary of the book.”

            Well, I did want to read another book.

            The bell rings and Captain releases us to lunch. Pitts turns in his seat, and he’s laughing. “Gothic literature?” he asks.

            “I told you she was a geek,” Knox mutters to Charlie, just loud enough for me to hear.

            “Hey!” I cry. “What about Meeks? He read something too.”

            He stops at my desk and smirks (something he must be picking up from Charlie) and says, “I’m going into engineering. You are just a geek like the rest of us.”

            I lean back and sigh loudly. “This is the reason I wish I was still at Henley.”

            “Then you shouldn’t have punched that girl,” Todd says softly as he walks past me. I turn as he heads for the door, mouth open in shock. That is the longest, stutter free sentence he’s ever uttered to me. And it was a joke! The others start laughing as we follow him for the door.

            “Ms. Evanston?”

            I stop in my tracks and someone puts their hand on my back and moves around me. My heart flips when I see its Neil. He’s giving me a questioning look.

            “I’ll meet you,” I tell him, trying not to look him in the eye, but finding it hard to look away. God, I wish I could hate him like I hate Charlie.

            I move back to my seat and sit down. The classroom empties quickly and my stomach is growling. I hope I can grab something to eat this time.

            Captain comes down the aisle and sits on the desk in front of me, just like last week. “I won’t keep you,” he says. “I was just curious about something.”

            I shrug, and then wonder if he’s going to ask me to stop that next. “About what?”

            “I became curious about how you came to be the first Welton woman. When I pulled your file, it said you left Henley Hall for personal reasons. The rest of it was blacked out.”

            I lean back in my seat. “What?” I ask. Personal reasons? It wasn’t personal.

            “How did you come to Welton?”

            Shouldn’t that be obvious? And why does he care? “Well,” I start. I might as well be honest with him. I was last time, after all. “I, uh, I got into a fight,” I tell him. He looks startled. “Well, it wasn’t exactly a fight. I punched a senior and fractured her nose.” He looks even more startled. “Henley has a low tolerance for violence, and I was already on academic probation, so the punch was the last straw.”

            Captain sits there for a moment. “Academic probation?” he asks.

            I shrug. “I didn’t like to do my homework,” I tell him simply. Henley wasn’t a challenge. It was a simple course load for girls so they could say they graduated and their husbands wouldn’t be embarrassed of them.

            He nods slowly, rubbing his chin. “So how did you end up here exactly?” he questions. This is the most direct anyone has ever asked me. The others knew from the get go, and friends of my parents ask indirect questions, and they would beat around the bush until they thought they figured it out.

            “My parents wanted me close to home, to keep an eye on me,” I tell him. “And the only private school nearby was this one. My father is Michael Evanston, owner of Evanston Construction, so he pulled a few strings, signed a couple checks, and Welton got the Evanston Library for Learning, and me.”

            “He must have pulled some large strings,” he says after a pause. “I can’t imagine things went over well.”

            I shrug again. “Well, Nolan,” I pause. “Mr. Nolan,” I amend. “He never outright mentioned or welcomed me to the school. I was just given a uniform and rules and a single room. It was a bit awkward at first, but I knew Neil, and my family has been friends with the Pitts’ and the Daltons for years as well, so it wasn’t too terrible.”

            He laughs. “You seem to have adjusted well.”

            I nod slowly. “Yeah.”

            “And you haven’t punched anyone here?” he jokes and I laugh.

            “Only thought about it, and only Charlie,” I say and he laughs again.

            He rises after a moment. “Go on to lunch. I’m sure the others are expecting you.”

            I stand and grab my books. My stomach is still growling and I hurry to the dining hall. I glance at the clock just as I enter. I still have twenty minutes. That’s plenty of time to eat.

            I sit at the table between Meeks and Knox and grab for the potatoes. I scoop a spoonful onto my plate and look up. They’re all watching me. I sigh and set the bowl back on the table.

            “If you want to know what happened, you can just ask,” I tell them. I glance around the table again and my eyes, of course, find Neil’s. Why do they always have to find him? And why can’t I look at him without my insides twisting, or fluttering, or dropping? I don’t like it.

            “Okay then, what happened?” Cameron demands, and I wish it had been anyone other than him who asked.

            I break my gaze from Neil and shrug. “Last time he wanted to tell me why I roll my eyes all the time.” I eat a spoonful of potatoes. Oh, they’re garlic and delicious. “He told me I can actual like learning, despite what my parents say,” I add, and almost wince at how bitter I sound. “And then today he wanted to know why my record says I left Henley for personal reasons, and why the rest was blacked out.”

            “Your records are blacked out?” Meeks repeats, looking confused.

            I shrug. I wish I could stop shrugging. “That’s what he said. So I told him about the fight and my father building the library and that was that.”

            My eyes find Neil’s again, and he’s watching me intently from across the table. Maybe he knows I told Captain more than that, maybe he knows I mentioned him.

            I shake myself from those thoughts quickly. How could he possibly know that? I’m being ridiculous.

            So instead of talking, or looking, I go back to my garlic potatoes.


	8. Chapter 8

When I return to my room after dinner, there is a small piece of blue paper taped to my door. I pull it off and examine it. It’s a room inspection sheet. It’s checked and signed in all the right places, and _pass_ is circled at the bottom.

            I crumple it in my hand and head inside. I toss the paper in my waste basket. But the date strikes something in me, and I realize I should probably call home.

            I dig through my drawers, looking for loose change for the pay phone, but all I have is a folded ten dollar bill at the bottom of my sock drawer for emergencies.

            There’s only one person I know who will have loose change readily available, and I swallow around the growing lump in my throat and make for his room. I knock on the door, and a moment later Todd opens the door. I take a quick glance around the room and see he’s alone.

            “He’s at rehearsal,” Todd tells me as he steps away from the door.

            “That’s fine,” I reply quickly, heading for his desk. Top drawer, right corner. I’ve done this plenty of times before. “I’m just here to borrow some change.”

            Neil only seems to have pennies, but I dig out two nickels. I sigh and close the drawer a bit too hard and the things on his desk shake. I turn and see Todd is still watching me.

            “D-Do you need more?” he asks. I hear him stutter and my heart goes out to him. I like it, I like _him_ , better when he’s not stuttering.

            I shake my head. “Nah,” I say, jiggling the coins in my hand. “It’ll be a good excuse to cut my conversation with my mother short.” Assuming that it’s not my father that picks up…though to be fair, he rarely answers the phone at home unless he has too.

            I see Todd’s eyebrows rise just slightly, and I smile. “If you want to ask a question Todd, you can just ask it. I doubt you’d ask anything terrible enough to warrant something other than an answer.”

            He blushes pink and I’m sorry I’ve embarrassed him. I shouldn’t have said anything. He’s so different when Neil isn’t around. “You don’t like talking to your parents?” he asks quietly after a pause.

            I shrug. “Does anyone?” I question.

            “Meeks, probably.”

            I laugh and he smiles. That’s definitely true. I lean against Neil’s desk and cross my ankles in front of me. “I’m only calling because my birthday is Thursday and I want to subtly remind my mother, in case she’s busy with something and it’s slipped her mind.”

            His eyes grow wide. “H-have they forgotten it in the past?”

            I nod. “Once; last year,” I tell him. “I was so mad I couldn’t stop shaking and crying and yelling all night. The next morning, father called and apologized, and I wanted to hang up on him, but I accepted the apology, made some excuse to go, and hung up.”

            He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the apology coming from him. It didn’t hurt as much now, but I didn’t get over the pain of it for weeks. I felt so small, and it felt like so many pieces were dropping out of place. The only thing that made it better was Charlie and Knox calling them every name in the book, and Neil coming to my room every night for almost two weeks to check on me.

            I suddenly find myself missing it. How did he decide I was okay enough to stop coming down the hall every night before lights out to say goodnight?

            “Margo?”

            I shake myself from my thoughts. I can feel myself blushing and I wrap my arms around myself. “I’m sorry, what?”

            “I asked if your birthday was this Thursday.”

            “Yeah. The fifteenth,” I tell him. “Why?”  
            He shrugs, and turns pink again. “M-m-mine’s Wednesday.”

            I push off from the desk. “Is it really?” I ask. He nods. “Did you tell anyone?”

            He shakes his head, and asks me not to mention it. He doesn’t say why, but I figure it’s because he doesn’t want to extra attention.

            “I should go make this phone call. I’ll see you later.” I head for the door, but pause and turn when my hand grabs hold of the handle. “Oh, and if Neil asks, tell him I’ll pay him back for the money I took.”

            Todd nods again and I leave. I make my way down the stairs and over to the pay phone. Outgoing calls have to be made on the pay phones, while parents are allowed to call in on the office phones. It’s a simple system, but it makes calling out hard if you don’t have the money.

            I drop in one of the coins and dial home. It rings four times before my mother answers, sounding just slightly out of breath.

            “It’s me,” I tell her.

            “Margaret! How are you?” she asks, sounding surprised by my call.

            “Fine,” I tell her. “I figured I should call, since it’s been a while since our last call.” I roll my eyes and my grip on the phone tightens. “How have you been?”

            “Busy!” she exclaims, and I listen as she goes on and on about the church bazaar last month, and how successful it was, and how they were having another one this weekend. She asks about school, and about Neil, and I tell her what I know she wants to hear.

            Ten minutes later, a voice cuts in and warns me I only have a minute left until the phone disconnects, and I say goodbye before hanging up. I’m still holding the other nickel because I couldn’t take another fifteen minutes of questions.

            And no mention of my birthday.

            I hurry up the stairs and right into my room. I leave the door cracked and grab my history book. We have to read chapter nine over the weekend, and I know I’ll have to read it twice for it to sink it, so I might as well start now.

            I sit on my bed, and leaning against the wall, I open my book and begin to read. After a couple pages, I get bored and look to see how many pages I have left. When I realize it’s thirteen, I groan loudly, but continue reading.

            My eyes start getting heavy after another couple pages, but I’m jerked awake when my door slams open and Charlie comes storming in, swearing under his breath.

            I blink as he sinks into my desk chair, slamming his book on my desk. I can see that it’s his history book. Charlie’s doing homework on a Friday?

            “Charlie?” I ask, and he turns to me, as if just now noticing I’m here, in my own room.

            “What?” he demands, and suddenly I’m laughing, because this is all too ridiculous. Why is he acting so put out that I’m here? The look on his face is just so funny that I have to laugh. A moment later, a smile, not a smirk, crosses his face, and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

            “What are you doing here?”I ask, still giggling.

            “Cameron won’t shut the hell up, and if I didn’t leave, I was going to kill him.”

            “What was he doing?”

            “It doesn’t matter what he was doing!” Charlie shouts, waving his hands around in an exasperated manor. “What matters is he wouldn’t knock it off.”

            I nod, and turn back to my book. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t kill him. I wouldn’t want to be harboring a fugitive.” I try to sound nonchalant, but I’m also trying not to laugh.

            Charlie sighs and opens his book.

            I glance over at him out of the corner of my eye. He looks so frustrated, I start laughing again. “If you want to go kill him, you can, just don’t come back here when you’re done.”

            He looks at me, raises an eyebrow and smirks. I reach behind me and grab my pillow before swinging it at him. It hits him on the back of the head and he grabs it from me quickly and hits me back.

            The door swings open and Charlie takes my distraction as a chance to hit me again. I grab the pillow away from him.

            “What’s going on in here?” Neil asks, stepping into the room. I jump up and smack him with the pillow.

            “Charlie wanted to kill Cameron, so he came here,” I tell him, and then smack him again. He gets the pillow from me, and with a laugh, tosses it to the bed.

            “He didn’t, though, right?” Neil smiles at me and I feel myself blush. I’m standing so close to him. I can feel warmth coming from him. I have to start thinking before I act.

            I want to throw my arms around him and just hug him.

            “Cameron still breathes,” Charlie mutters behind me. I hear his book close. “I’m just trying to get history out of the way, but it appears you two won’t stop talking either.” Charlie stands, and before I can stop him, he moves around us and enters the hallway. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            “What was the point of you even coming here?” I demand. He’s been here for, what? Ten minutes?

            He shrugs. “You don’t have an annoying roommate.” With a small wave over his shoulder, he heads down the hallway, probably to bother Knox or Meeks.

            I watch after him for a couple moments, until Neil takes a step forward and we’re even closer. I now notice he’s out of his uniform, and is just wearing his favorite green sweater and a pair of slacks. Why did he have to look so good in green?

            “Can I help you with something?” I ask, trying to sound light, but it sounds more forced than anything.

            His smile widens. We are less than a foot apart and I really want to close this gap between us. “Todd told me you were rummaging through my drawers earlier.”

            I cock an eyebrow at him. “I highly doubt he worded it that way.” He shrugs, and I realize the lights are making his eyes look like they’re sparkling. I look away, and then move away, and grab his money. “I didn’t use this,” I tell him as I turn around.

            “What did you need it for?” he asks as I drop the coin into his palm, carefully so I don’t brush his skin. I’ve only held his hand once, when we were nine, and I’m worried if I do it now, I’ll never want to let go.

            “I needed to call my mother. I’ll pay you back,” I promise.

            He shakes his head. “No you won’t. Don’t worry about it.”

            I can’t help but smile. I wish I wouldn’t. I lower my eyes and try to calculate how far apart we are. Probably three feet, maybe three and a half.

            “Hey.” He snaps his fingers in front of my face. I look up and notice he’s closer.

            “What?” I ask. I recalculate our closeness. Two feet. Roughly. My arms wrap around my middle before I can think twice about it. This feels better.

            “I said I got you something today.”

            My heart leaps at that. “Why?” I demand.

            He laughs. “Your birthday, remember?”

            Of course. How did I not realize that? “You didn’t have to.”

            He shrugs and turns for the door. “I know. But I think you’ll like it.” He stops in the doorway. “Are you going tomorrow? To the meeting?”

            I think back, trying to remember what time I was told it was. “We’re going after lunch?”

            He nods. “Yeah. I have rehearsal in the morning, but I’ll meet you there.” Then he’s gone with a wave, and I find myself wishing I had asked him to stay.

 

The next afternoon, I meet Meeks and Pitts and we head for the cave together. I realized quite quickly that it’s much easier to find it in the daylight than at night. I also feel more relaxed going to the meetings when we go during the day. That’s probably because going off campus at night has a hefty penalty, when going the day is just a handful of demerits.

            Knox and Charlie are already there when we arrive.

            “Nice hat,” Pitts tells Charlie as he takes his seat.

            Charlie throws him a look I can’t read from my seat next to Meeks.

            “I brought toys!” Charlie declares, holding up a bag. “Took them from my dad.”

            For a second, I’m confused as to why he’d have toys with him, until he starts handing out pipes and tobacco. So, not actual toys.

            I notice a black case next to him. “What’s that?” I ask, pointing.

            He gives me a wink. “You’ll see.” I roll my eyes, but I really want to know what’s inside.

            Cameron and Todd each receive a pipe when they finally show up ten minutes later. Charlie offers me one, and I wave it away.

            “I wouldn’t even know what to do,” I tell him.

            “It’s not rocket science,” he says, like he’s talking to an idiot. I roll my eyes.

            “Where’s Neil?” Cameron asks, accepting a matchbook from Charlie and lighting his pipe.

            “R-Rehearsal,” Todd answers before I can speak. He takes the matchbook next and has no trouble getting his lit.

            The air quickly gets heavy with smoke. The boys start joking with each other, but I notice Knox and Todd aren’t joining in. Todd being quiet doesn’t surprise me, but Knox does. He could be just as annoying as Charlie at times. It was strange seeing him just sitting there, smoking his pipe.

            Pitts starts coughing, pulling me from my thoughts, and Charlie starts to laugh. “Attaboy, Pittsie. Inhale. Deeply.”

            Meeks turns to me. “My dad collects a lot of pipes,” he says, and I can’t help but giggle.

            “Really?” I ask.

            “Mine’s got thirty,” Charlie cuts in.

            I wave my hand in front of my face. I thought the smoke was supposed to go up hole? It’s just surrounding us.

            “Your parents collect pipes? Oh, that’s really interesting!” Pitts says with a laugh.

            I reach over and kick his shins. “It’s better than yours, collecting stamps,” I tease.

            “Your dad collects stamps?” Charlie demands. “How does he stand it?”

            “Hey!” Pitts says, looking defensive. “Some of those stamps are antiques, and they’re worth a lot of money!”

            I glance over at Meeks. “Yeah, stamps. Worth money.” I nod solemnly and Pitts shouts at me from across the cave.

            We’re silent for about a minute. The boys are smoking their pipes, and I’m watching them. Then Charlie notices how quiet Knox is being and tells him to join in. Meeks and Pitts start giving him a hard time, and I start laughing. This is fun. I’m having fun. I just wish Neil would get here so we could get this meeting really started.

            Suddenly, Charlie’s shouting at me, watching his pipe in my face. “Come on Margo, try it,” he demands.

            I blush. The others glance up at me. “Charlie, no.” I don’t like being the center of attention, and I want them to look away.

            “Come on! It’s not hard. Just suck in.”

            “I’ll do it wrong, and you’ll laugh.”

            “I won’t.”

            “Come on,” Pitts says.

            “Carpe diem!” Meeks declares.

            “Someone’ll laugh,” I say. I don’t want to, but I can feel my resolve slipping. This is one of the many reasons I hate Charlie.

            “No one will. Come on! I’ll even light it for you.”

            I roll my eyes, but find myself edging closer to him. “You’re a bad influence, Dalton.”

            He flicks a match and brings it down. “Just up and smoke the pipe, Margaret.”

            I inhale and it burns the back of my throat. I try to hold in my cough, but it bursts out of me and to their credit, no one laughs.

            “See?” Charlie asks. “Was that so bad?”

            I glare at him, but can’t say anything because I cough again.

            “Neil!” Meeks shouts as a figure appears at the entrance to the cave. He enters, carrying a…a lamp. He looks so full of energy, like he could take off flying or running, and be out of sight in a heartbeat.

            He turns to me, and then cocks his head to the side. “Are you smoking?”

            I shake my head quickly. “It was Charlie,” I say, coughing again. “Never again.”

            “What do you have there?” Cameron asks. I almost forgot he was here, considering he’s just been watching things from his spot by the cave entrance.

            Charlie hands Neil a pipe, and start fiddling with his black case, and I’m strangely excited to see what’s inside.

            “It’s a lamp, Cameron,” Pitts says.

            Neil quickly removes the shade from the base, revealing it to be a man. “No. This is the god of the cave.”

            “The god of the cave,” Meeks repeats.

            There’s a quick, loud burst of noise and we all turn to Charlie. The case must be holding the saxophone he’s suddenly holding.

            “What do you say we start this meeting?” He stands. “‘ _Poetrusic’_ by Charles Dalton.” He starts playing erratic notes and it makes me cringe. “Laughing, crying, tumbling, mumbling. Gotta do more. Gotta be more.” There’s another burst of notes. “Chaos screaming, chaos dreaming. Gotta do more! Gotta be more!” The notes he plays form a real turn, and we watch in awed silence for close to two minutes before he stops.

            The others are able to vocalize their awe, I find myself unable to speak. How the hell did I not know he could do that? How long did he say we’ve known each other? Six years? What else don’t I know about him?

            “My parents made me take the clarinet for years,” he’s saying. I steal a glance at Neil, and he looks as shocked as I feel.

            “I love the clarinet!” Cameron exclaims.

            “I hated it!” Pitts and Meeks laugh loudly, and I can see Cameron’s face blush. “The saxophone…the saxophone is more sonorous.”

            “Sonorous?” I find myself repeating. Now he’s good at vocabulary?

            Knox jumps up, and it makes me jump because to be completely honest, I forgot he was there.

            “I can’t take it anymore. If I don’t have Chris, I’m going to kill myself.”

            I get a chill. The way he’s been acting, the way he looked today, just now, I almost believe it. And I don’t like it.

            “Knoxious, you’ve got to calm down.”

            “No Charlie. That’s just my problem. I’ve been calm all my life. I’ll do something about it.” He grabs his coat and turns, heading for the exit.

            “Where are you going?” Neil calls after him.

            “What are you going to do?” I add. This is crazy. He’s crazy. I don’t like this.

            “I’m going to call her!”

            I can hear him laughing as he runs outside. The rest of us share a quick look before we grab our things and rush after him. We run after him the whole way back to school, but are unable to slow him or talk to him. Hell, we can’t even catch up to him. He seems to be flowing with the same energy Neil was just a short while ago.

            When we enter the building, Knox is already at a payphone. He dials a number. There’s a pause, and then he slams the phone down. I look over at Charlie, who’s leaning next to the phone, and then over my shoulder at Neil. He’s smiling, and it’s the most vibrant thing in the whole room and I find myself smiling to.

            “…all right, goddamn it. You’re right,” Knox is saying when I turn back, even though no one has spoken. “ _Carpe diem_ ; even if it kills me.”

            He puts in another coin and I peak again at Neil. He’s leaning against Todd and for a moment, I’m close to wishing I was the one he was leaning against.

            “Hello, Chris?” Pause. I hate hearing only one side of a phone call. I always have to guess what the other person is saying, and I’m hardly ever right. “Hi. This is Knox Overstreet.” Pause. I look again at Neil, and meet his eye. He smiles wider, and his eyes are crinkling at the edges and I have to look away. “She’s glad I called!” he whispers to us. “Would I like to come to a party?” He looks wildly around the circle we’ve formed around him.

            “Yes!” Charlie whispers loudly. “Say yes!”

            “Well, sure.” Pause. “I’ll bring someone.” Pause. “Okay, great. I-I’ll be there, Chris.” Pause. “Friday night at the Danberry’s. O-okay. Thank you.” Pause. “Thank you. I’ll see you. Bye.”

            He hangs up the phone, and falls back against the wall behind him. “Yawp!” he shouts, breathing heavily for a moment. “Can you believe it? She was going to call me. She invited me to a party with her.”

            “At Chet Danberry’s house,” Charlie adds.

            “Yeah.”

            “Well?”

            “So?”

            “So, you don’t really think she means you’re going with her?” Charlie demands. I think he’s trying to make Knox come to his senses a little, but he sounds a bit mean. Then again, Charlie usually sounds mean.

            “Well, of course not Charlie!” Knox snaps. “But that’s not the point. That’s not the point at all.”

            “What is the point?”

            “The point, Charlie, is uh,”

            “Yeah?”

            “That she was thinking about me. I’ve only met her once, and already she’s thinking about me. Damn it. It’s going to happen guys. I feel it.” He pushes off from the wall and heads for the stairs. “She is going to be mine!” He gives his scarf an exaggerated flick around his neck, and then runs up the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

That night after dinner, we meet in the lounge to do homework. Knox and Charlie are arguing with each other in hushed voices, and I’m trying to concentrate on my trig, which is hard because I’m sitting next to Neil and I curse him for the third time in twenty minutes for picking the chair next to me.

            “Margo!” Charlie says. “Go with Knox.”

            I lean back in my chair, startled by both his shout and his request. Everybody looks up, and I share a confused look with Neil.

            “Excuse me?” I ask after a moment. “Do what with Knox?”

            “Go to the party with him.”

            My mouth drops open and for a moment I forget how to speak. “Uh, no?”

            “That’s what I told him!” Knox said. “I wanted him to come, but he refused.”

            “You’re refusing a party?” Neil asks Charlie, his eyebrows coming together in confusion.

            Charlie rolls his eyes. “Think about it! If Knox shows up alone, it’ll look bad. If he shows up with me, it’ll look odd, but if he shows up with you, it’ll spark her interest. She’ll wonder who you are, and she’ll ask Knoxious and they’ll have a chance to talk.”

            “You’re brilliant,” Pitts says, looking at Charlie in wonder.

            I, however, am looking at Charlie in disgust. “What if I don’t want to?” I question, raising an eyebrow at him.

            He gives me a disapproving look. “You won’t help one of your best friends find true love and happiness?”

            Knox looks between Charlie and I, and I feel my resolve disappearing. I hate Charlie, and the look on Knox’s face is pathetic. He really wants her.

            I sigh. “What time does it start?”

            “Chris said seven,” Knox tells me. God, the way he says her name makes me feel queasy. Do I sound like that when I say Neil’s name?

            I turn back to Charlie. “How the hell am I supposed to sneak out that early while not in uniform?”

            He shrugs. “We’ll go to the cave that night, so we can watch out for you when you leave.”

            I look over at Neil for help, for some excuse not to go, to be on my side for why I shouldn’t go, but he just shrugs. A lot of help he is. Oh, but he’s wearing that plaid shirt I like, and I find it hard not only to be mad at him, but to not stare.

            I sigh again. “Fine!” I snap. “But only to help Knox. I’m not going to have any fun.”

            Charlie laughs and Knox thanks me.

             I try to go back to trig, but I can’t focus. I steal another peak at Neil. He has his copy of _Midsummer Night’s Dream_ open and is mouthing his lines, smiling to himself when he gets one right.

            I hate all of them.

 

Wednesday I wake up a bit earlier than usual and dress quickly. I hear voices on the other side of my door, and leave my room.

            Boys are coming and going from the bathroom. I pass Neil on his way to the bathroom and he greets me with a smile. Does that boy ever _not_ smile?

            “Is Todd awake?” I ask, trying to suppress my own smile. It would be easier to suppress my feeling for him if we weren’t friends.

            “Of course he is,” he tells me, rubbing his eye and taking a pause to yawn. “He’s more a morning person than Knox.” I find that hard to believe, but I thank him anyway and continue to their room.

            The door is cracked, but I still knock before pushing it open. Todd whirls around at the sound.

            “Morning.” I take a quick peek behind me. No one is nearby, so I turn back and smile. “Happy birthday,” I tell him quietly; hoping none of the boys overhears me.

            He smiles, but it falls quickly as he looks away. “Thanks.”

            “Think it’ll be a good day?” I ask.

            He shrugs.

            A hand touches my shoulder, and I jump, whirling around. Neil is chuckling, shaking his head as he moves past me, his hand brushing my arm as he moves. I feel myself blush, because I know he did that on purpose. His smiles and his glances are probably all on purpose too, and maybe that should tick me off, but I don’t know how I feel about it.

            “What’s going on?” Neil asks, looking between me and Todd.

            Todd meets my eye. His eyes are wide, and it’s like he’s asking me to remember what I promised.

            I quickly shrug. “I just needed to ask him something about class,” I say. “English,” I add, unnecessarily. I grab for the door handle. “See you at breakfast.”

           

The day goes by quickly, and relatively uninteresting until, of course, English. There’s a note on the door when we come to it that says _“Meet in the courtyard.”_

            “The courtyard?” Someone repeats behind me.

            “Doesn’t he know how cold it is out there?” someone else says.

            I turn and look up at Pitts. He shrugs and I shrug back and wordlessly we make our way down the stairs and outside. The sun is shining, and it’s not as cold as I would have assumed from the complaining happening behind me. Charlie’s leaning against a pillar in the back, and I debate whether to take a spot next to him, or where the rest of them are standing.

            I find myself next to Todd as if Pitts had dragged me there himself. Todd looks over at me and I give him a small smile before Captain appears in front of us.

            “Today, I hope, you will all be learning an important lesson,” he starts. He looks around the semi-circle we’ve created around him and he calls. “Mr. Cameron! Mr. Overstreet! Mr. Pitts. Join me here if you would.”

            The three of them step forward, and I’m grateful he didn’t call on me. I don’t know what they’re doing, Captain is explaining to them that quietly, but I certainly don’t want to be up there doing it.

            Cameron starts walking, followed quickly by Pitts, and lastly Knox. They circle the small area of the courtyard we’re in and I share a confused look with Todd again.

            They pass us and make no signs of stopping. This is weird. Why are we watching them walk?

            “No grades at stake, gentlemen. Just take a stroll.” Captain calls to them as they pass by him again.

            The three of them pass by two more times before Captain shouts “There it is!” and it takes me a moment to realize they’ve fallen into step with each other. Some of the boys around me start clapping in time with the footsteps.

            I steal a glance at Neil, who is on the other side of Todd. He’s laughing and clapping along with the others.

_I could tell him._

            I jerk my head away from him and swallow hard. My heart is pounding at the thought. No. No I couldn’t. Why do I think I could?

            “Halt!” Captain shouts.

            I take a deep breath and focus back in on the lesson. I can’t do this.

            “Thank you, gentlemen. If you noticed, everyone started off with their own stride, their own pace. Mr. Pitts, taking his time. He knew he’ll get there one day. Mr. Cameron, you could see him thinking, ‘is this right? It might be right. It might be right, I know that. Maybe not. I don’t know. And then Mr. Overstreet, driven by deeper force.” Laughter echoes through the courtyard when Captain does an impression of Knox’s walk. “Yes, yes, we know that. All right. Now, I didn’t bring them up here to ridicule them. I brought them up here to illustrate the point of conformity; the difficulty in maintaining your own beliefs in the face of others. Now, those of you, I see the look in your eyes like ‘I would’ve walked differently.’ Well, ask yourselves why you were clapping. Now, we all have a great need for acceptance. But you must trust that your beliefs are unique, your own, even though others may think them off or unpopular, even though the herd may go, ‘That’s baaaaaaad.’ Robert Frost said, ‘Two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.’ Now, I want you to find your own walk right now. Your own way of striding, pacing. Any direction. Anything you want. Whether it’s proud, whether it’s silly, anything. The courtyard is yours!”

            Everyone starts walking, and I start walking straight, avoiding the others, especially the ones walking silly. One boy, Robert Henry, is kicking with every step, so I try to avoid him.

            I feel silly walking around aimlessly. Captain went to school here; surely he has to know that we don’t have that freedom. We have no choice but to conform. Charlie’s going to end up a banker, Knox a lawyer, Neil a doctor. That’s not what they want, but they have to. And I, my heart drops when I think it, I don’t get a choice at all. I can’t go on to college. I can’t make a different, but still respectable, job choice. I’m stuck with a marriage, a home, a family.

            “This isn’t that bad.”

            I glance up. Neil has walked up beside me. I glance down at our feet. “We’re conforming,” I tell him quietly, pointing down. He looks as well, and when he sees our feet in sync, he laughs.

            “Sometimes conforming isn’t terrible,” he says with a shrug. “But by the look on your face, it is.”

            I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I was thinking about.”

            “Then what were you thinking about?”

            Our arms brush and I lose my train of thought for a moment. Why did he have to come over to me?

            “Inability to make choices.” We dodge around Robert Henry again, but it looks like he’s going to stop kicking soon.

            “What do you mean?”

            I stop and gesture around us. “Ninety percent of our class already has their lives planned out for them.” His face turns white, but I’m already on a roll. I point around the courtyard, at the boys whose futures I know. Charlie. “Banker.” Pitts. “Engineer.” Knox. “Lawyer.” Robert. “Doctor.” Hopkins. “Chemist.” Ellis McGill. “Family Business.” Four others are accompanied by “Family Business.” I turn to Neil and tap his chest with my finger. “Doctor,” I say quietly.

            We’re close to each other, and the fact that our classmates are still walking around us means nothing. There’s a pain in his eyes that is as plain as day, and I know I put it there. I wrap my arms around myself.

            Maybe I should have stopped when I had the chance. He didn’t need a reminder that conforming is all we’re good at. He knew these boys had their lives planned out. It’s hard not to overhear things here at Welton.

            “What about you?” he whispers, and I can barely hear him over the noise around us. I shrug and look away from him. I look at the others, and spot Charlie, still leaning on the pillar in the back. “Margo?”

            “Wife,” I finally manage to force out, looking up at him. I open my mouth, and I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to say, but the bell rings.

            I step away from him. “I’m sorry.”

            The courtyard is clearing out quickly, but Neil doesn’t move, his eyebrows just knit and I know I’ve confused him. “Why?” he asks.

            “I know you don’t want to be a doctor.”

            He laughs, and I’m not sure if it’s fake or not. “Well, I know you don’t want to be a wife.” He shrugs, and then glances down at my arms, still wrapped tightly around my chest. “Maybe we should get to lunch?”

            “Yeah, maybe.” I glance around the yard. It’s completely empty.

            We head back inside and towards the dining hall. Before we enter though, I grab his arm and pull him to a stop. His eyes go wide and he glances down at my hand, wrapped around his arm, and I want to let go and hold on tighter at the same time.

            “I really am sorry,” I tell him. The pain in his eyes has gone away, but it shouldn’t have been there to begin with.

            He smiles, a crooked little half smile, and places his hand on top of mine. My body grows warm, and my face blushes when he looks up at me. “You don’t have to be.” His hand drops, and I drop mine quickly after and without another word, we go into the dining hall.

            “Nice of you to join us,” Charlie says as we sit down. I ignore him and take a roll from the basket Meeks offers me.

            “We were talking,” Neil tells him, loading his plate up with food. I take notice that he doesn’t look at me when he says it and it kind of hurts.

            Charlie looks over at me, and I wait for him to smirk, but he doesn’t.

            “What were you guys talking about?” I ask, attempting to change the subject because if someone else has anything to say about me and Neil, I’ll scream.

            Knox starts chocking in his food and Pitts whacks him hard on the back, but no one says anything, and I’m suddenly on edge.

            “What?” I demand.

            “It was nothing,” Charlie tells me. I glare at him across the table, suddenly terrified he’s told them. He promised he wouldn’t, but I should know better than to trust Charlie on his word. Of course he’s told them. How could I have been stupid enough to believe he wouldn’t?

            “It’s not that!” He says as if he can read my mind.

            “Then what?” I demand again, looking around the table. I catch Meeks’ eye and stare him down until he finally shrugs.

            “They were taking a poll.”

            “On?”

            He shrugs again. “When your parents would call tomorrow.” He pauses and glances over at Charlie. “Or if they would at all.”

            “Charlie!” Neil shouts from across the table.

            “That’s not funny!” I tell him. “Don’t you remember last year?”

            Charlie drops his fork and holds his hands up. “Hey, I know it’s not funny! That’s why we’re not taking money on it!”

            The table shakes. Charlie winces in pain, and then glares across the table at Neil. The realization that Neil just kicked him hits quickly and I’m glad he did it because I can’t reach Charlie from here.

            “We weren’t-” Knox starts, but I cut him off.

            “What were the guesses?” I ask. No one says anything, so I ask again, a bit louder.

            “Meeks said before class,” Knox tells me. “Todd agreed with him.” I shoot a look over at Todd, whose face is turning a deep shade of red fast, and I can’t find it in me to be mad at him.

            “Pitts said during the day before lunch,” I shoot a look at him, but he seems to find his corn more interesting. “I said during class, after lunch. Cameron said after dinner, and Charlie said not at all.”

             “Do you really think they’d forget two years in a row?” I ask him.

            He shrugs. I hate him, and I hate the smirk that’s forming on his lips. “Do you?”

            I glance over at Neil. He’s watching me, and he looks angry. He’s biting his lip as if to keep from saying something. I look back at Charlie. I’m not feeling as mad anymore. In fact, talking about it this way seems to have helped calm some of my fears. Like now, if they would forget again, it wouldn’t come as a surprise.

            I sigh and take a bite of my roll. I chew it slowly as I try to think of something to say to help erase the tension that has settled around us.

            I look around the table, at each face that seems on a different level of embarrassed. I sigh again and tell Charlie, “Put me down for free period, before dinner.”

            Everybody turns to me, and Charlie’s already laughing, and Neil looks shocked, and Todd isn’t violently red anymore.

            “Are you serious?” Cameron asks, looking wide eyed at the suggestion I’ve made.

            I shrug. “I mean, I was worried about it enough to call to remind them I exist.” I glance over at Neil again. He’s watching me so intensely, like I’m the only thing here in the dining hall. I have to look away, and it takes all my strength to not wrap my arms around myself again.

 

            I lose track of the boys that night after dinner. Neil has rehearsal, and Todd disappears somewhere, and I decide to stay in my room and catch up on homework. I still haven’t found a book to read for Captains assignment, even though I’ve been looking each afternoon I’m stuck putting books away at the library. Nothing really strikes my interest. I go to bed early, after finishing my history. I should probably do more work, but that work isn’t due until next week, and I can barely keep my eyes open.

            I fall asleep quickly, but sometime later I’m awoken by a pounding at my door. The room is still dark, and I have to pull my clock up close to my face to make out the time. I blink away the sleep fogging my eyes before I see it’s after midnight.

            Who the hell is knocking on my door this late?

            There’s another burst of knocking, and I drop my clock onto my nightstand. I stand and pull my robe on, tying it tightly.

            I throw the door open. No one is there, but I hear a door shut. I glance down the hallway, but can’t tell which door it was.

            I yawn loudly and go to close the door when I realize there’s a piece of paper taped to it. I pull it off and see right away it’s a card. I laugh at how crummy it looks. It’s just a piece of white paper, folded in half. The words _Happy Birthday_ are scrawled across the front.

            I close the door and flip my light on. I open the card. All that’s on the inside is their signatures. Pitts’ takes up almost half a page, and Todd’s is cramped in the bottom corner. I smile as I trace Neil’s name.

            “Asses,” I whisper, flipping the light back off. I place the card on my nightstand, and crawl back into bed.


	10. Chapter 10

            The next time I wake up, my alarm is going off, and its morning. I roll over, yawning, and catch sight of the card. I pick it up and look it over again. I sure hope they change their signatures when they get out of Welton.

            I get dressed and head for breakfast. I’m running behind, so when I get to breakfast, I’m the last one at the table.

            I sit down in the empty seat between Knox and Neil. They all call out happy birthdays, and I’m blushing before I’m situated in my seat. “Thanks,” I tell them. “And thanks for the midnight wake up call.”

            “Technically it was your birthday,” Meeks reminds me, handing me the toast.

            “Who risked Hager?” I glance around the table, and am shocked when Meeks raises his hand. “You’re kidding!”

            He shrugs. “I could have gotten away with it.”

            “Think it’ll be a good day?” Todd asks from across the table and I smile over at him.

            “We’ll see.”

            We leave the dining hall and I fall back and let the boys pass me and exit the building. I circle back and enter the office.

            “Morning Maggie.”

            Maggie looks up. She has her hair in an intricate braid and I stare at it in wonder. I wonder how she managed to do that herself.

            She smiles brightly. “Morning Margaret!” She must be a morning person. I wonder what time she arrives every day.

            “Did I receive any calls?” I ask, my hand gripping the door handle tightly.

            “No,” she tells me. “Not yet, at least. Are you expecting one?”

            I nod. “From my parents; it’s my birthday,” I add the last bit as an afterthought.

            “Well happy birthday!”

            Her enthusiasm is easy to catch. I smile back at her. “Thank you.”

            “No one has called yet, but check back in between classes. I’m sure they’ll call soon.”

            I thank her and leave the office and head to class. The boys ask where I was, but I wave them off. I don’t want to voice my concerns, not yet. Maybe I won’t at all. I don’t know if I’m ready for a repeat of last year.

            I hurry back to the office before Latin, and trig, and English, with no luck. Each time Maggie seems a little happier, and I think she’s faking it to make me feel better. I probably seem pathetic, so I don’t go before lunch, or before history.

            I check in before study hall, and she tells me again there have been no calls. It’s almost three o’clock. After what happened last year, I would have thought they’d have written a note, or some other sort of reminder. Then again, I would have thought they wouldn’t have needed a reminder, considering it’s not like it’s something silly. Mother was in labor with me for thirteen hours. Call me crazy, but that seems like something she’d remember.

            After study hall, I go to my room to finish my homework. I might not even go to dinner. I’m not feeling hungry, and I don’t want any of the boys to ask if I’ve heard from my parents. I don’t want one of them to mention that stupid poll either.

            There’s a knock on my door and I drop my trig book in my rush to answer it. I sigh when I see its Neil.

            “Were you expecting someone else?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

            “No,” I lie as I walk back to my desk. “What’s going on?” I ask.

            He closes the door until it’s only open a crack and follows me into the room. “”I, uh, I,” He pulls his hand from behind his back. “I got you this.” He’s holding something terribly wrapped in lined paper. “For your birthday.” He steps closer and hands it to me.

            I take it from him, my heart pounding. He did say he got something for me, but I didn’t expect it _wrapped_. I rip the paper away to find it’s a book, _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Bronte. I think I just found what I’m going to be reading for Captain’s assignment.

             I smile up at him. “Thank you.”

            He takes another step closer. “I thought you’d like it. It’s Gothic.”

            “How do you know me so well?” I ask quietly. He’s so close to me. My heart pounds harder and I desperately want to wrap my arms around myself.

            “I pay attention,” he replies, just as soft. He takes another step closer. He couldn’t be closer to me without our bodies being pushed against one another.

            I want him closer.

            He slowly raises his hand, and I watch as it comes up to my face. He tucks a loose piece of hair behind my ear, and my face burns where he’s touched.

            His hand slides to the crook of my neck, and doesn’t remove it. My hands are shaking. We’ve never done this. I don’t know what to do.

            I look up at him. He’s watching me carefully, and I can see he’s fighting back a smile. I glance down at his lips for a quick second. I want to kiss him. I want him to take a step back. I don’t know what I want.

            I blink rapidly a couple times, trying to clear the fog invading my thoughts. I look down at the floor. Our feet are almost touching.

            “Hey,” Neil whispers, tucking a finger under my chin and lifting my face to his. “What is it?” he asks, his eyebrows knitting together in concern.

            I open my mouth, but my mind is blank. I don’t know what I’m going to say, but then Charlie and Knox burst into the room, shouting about dinner. Neil and I jump apart, and I’m grateful I didn’t say anything stupid.

            But I hate them for interrupting us.

            “Sorry,” Charlie says quickly, and to my surprise he actually looks sorry.

            “Did we interrupt something?” Knox asks, looking between the two of us.

            “No!” I answer before Neil can. He leaves without a word.

            “Thank you,” I whisper to Charlie as I walk past him. We were getting too close. This can’t happen.

            I fix my ponytail as I follow then down the stairs. I drop back again and go to the office. I’m not even worried about the possible phone call from my parents, which has surely come by now, but because I need a minute away from Neil. He, he can’t be that close. It’s what too many people want. He can’t have a permanent place.

            I take a deep breath and enter the office. Maggie is gone for the day, so I’m greeted by Tabitha, the night secretary. She’s just as friendly as Maggie, but she never does her hair in interesting ways.

            “Happy birthday Margaret,” she tells me when I approach the desk. “Maggie told me,” she says before I can ask how she knows.

            “Did I get a call?”

            “Not yet.” My stomach drops. I glance at the clock above her desk and see it’s after six. “The moment they call, I’ll send someone for you,” she promises, and I leave the room without a word.

            I walk towards the dining hall, but my appetite is quickly disappearing. This is going to be just like last year. I’m going to be forgotten two years in a row.

            I wipe at my eyes quickly, trying to stop the tears before they fall. I take a deep breath and enter the dining hall. I hurry to our table and take the empty seat beside Pitts. I grab a roll from the basket beside my plate. My appetite is gone, but I take a bite of bread anyway.

            I wave away the bowl of potatoes Pitts offers me. “Not hungry,” I tell him, taking another bite of roll.

            “Something wrong?” he asks, looking concerned.

            “I’m just not hungry,” I repeat.

            I manage to finish the roll and wait at the table until the others are done. I want to be alone, but I’m worried if I am alone, I’ll start crying or screaming and I won’t be able to stop. This is going to be a repeat of last year, and I don’t want it.

            We leave the dining hall after dessert and we head back to our rooms. I check the clock on my nightstand when I enter my room. It’s a quarter to seven. I sink onto my bed. I sit against the headboard and bring my legs up to my chest, hugging them tightly. I rest my chin on my knees and squeeze my eyes shut. I’m not going to cry. I won’t.

            The door opens and I don’t have to turn to know who it is. “Neil,” I say, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. “I want to be alone right now.”

            There’s a pause, and for a moment I think he might actually listen to me, but instead he comes forward and sits at the edge of my bed.

            “They haven’t called yet, have they?” he asks gently.

            I lower my eyes to the bedspread. I don’t want him here.

            “Have they?” he repeats when I don’t answer.

            I take a shaky breath. “No,” I whisper. “They haven’t called.” Saying it makes my eyes water and I shut them tightly. I really don’t want him here, not after what just happened with him here.

            I feel him shift, and I take a chance at opening my eyes. He’s moved a bit closer, but there’s still plenty of space between us.

            “They will,” he tells me.

            “No they won’t.” I respond, suddenly feeling sick. “If they were going to, they would have by now.”

            “You don’t know that.”

            “You don’t know that either.”

            Neil moves again, to the foot of the bed, and leans against the wall at the bottom of the bed. We don’t talk, and I don’t know exactly how much time passes while we sit in silence. It’s nice. I’m glad he’s not close to me, but I also want him closer. This is insane. I am insane.

            Neil leans his head against the wall, and then looks over at me, catching my stare. He smiles and I smile back automatically. I’m glad he’s here. He’s making things better.

            There’s a knock on the door, and I glance over when it’s pushed open. Hopkins is on the other side. His hands are deep in his pockets and I’m confused. Why is he here?

            “Tabitha sent me to,” he starts, but I’m off the bed before he can finish. I brush past him and head downstairs quickly.

            I enter the office and Tabitha quickly connects me to the line my call is on and leaves the front office.

            “Hello?”

            “Hello Margaret dear.” It’s my mother. “And happy birthday!” My mother actually called. She actually remembered. She didn’t forget. I wasn’t forgotten. Neil was right, Neil-

            My eyes catch a glimpse of the clock above Maggie’s desk. It’s 7:59.

            “Mother, it’s almost eight o’clock,” I tell her in a brief moment of bravery.

            She sighs sharply. “I know the time Margaret,” she tells me, just as sharp as her sigh. “But I told you about the church bazaar, and the people wouldn’t leave, and it went on much longer than we expected.”

            The church bazaar. This phone call was put off because of the church bazaar.

            “When we see you at the end of term, we’ll have your presents,” she tells me. Like I care about presents; all I would like is a late morning, mid afternoon phone call. “And we’ll have dinner at _LeAnna’s_ , of course,” she adds with a light laugh.

            “Are we going to the cabin again this Christmas?” I ask. I don’t even care about my birthday anymore. A topic change is just what I need.

            “Well, of course!” She declares, sounding surprised I doubted it. “Your father and Mr. Dalton have already arranged for the cabin to be cleaned the weekend before. We’ll arrive the 22nd and stay until the 2nd,  like always.”

            “Sounds fun,” I say. I don’t sound sincere now, but I love going to the cabin. It’s in a community of other cabins in Colorado, and I truly love it there. I love skiing, and eating at _LeAnna’s_ , or the little food court by the slopes.

            “Well, dear, I’m exhausted,” mother says, drawing me from my thoughts.

            “Of course,” I tell her, trying to sound upbeat. “I’ll talk to you soon?”

            “Lovely.”

            “Night.”

            “Goodnight Margaret.”

            I hang the phone up. Not exactly the way I wanted my birthday to go, but it could have been worse, I suppose.

            I leave the office and climb the stairs back to my room. I’m surprised to see Neil still there.

            “I wasn’t sure if I should leave or not,” he tells me. “How’d it go?”

            I shrug. “Good. She was at the church bazaar.”

            He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

            I climb on to the bed and take up my previous spot at the headboard. “Yeah. You know my mother. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”

            He nods slowly. He glances over at me and smiles again before standing up. “I should be going.”

            “Feel free to tell the others Cameron won the poll.”

            Neil laughs. “Charlie will be thrilled.”

            I shrug again. “I’m glad he was wrong.”

            He opens the door and turns around. “Me too. Night Margo.”

            “Neil?”

            “Yeah?”

            I smile. “Thanks again for the present.”

            “I hope you like it.” And with that, he’s gone. I change into my pajamas quickly and turn the light off.

            Now the only thing I have to stress over is that stupid party tomorrow.


	11. Chapter 11

The next day during study hall is when I finally muster up my courage and whisper to Charlie, “You want to go to a party tonight?”

            Okay, so there was no real courage behind my question. I just don’t want to go, but I know Knox can’t go alone, so Charlie is really the next best thing.

            Charlie turns to me, looking surprised and a little mad that I asked him that. “No,” he tells me shortly.

            “Come on,” I say, drawing out the words. Knox looks over at us from across the table. All day he’s been nervous, asking Charlie for advice on how to act around Chris.

            “You promised Knox.”

            “I never _promised_ ,” I say. At least, I don’t remember promising.

            “You’re going.”

            I turn away from Charlie and look at Neil, who’s on the other side of my, trying to study his history for the test we have Monday. “Back me up here, please,” I beg.

            “Margo,” Knox starts.

            “If she doesn’t want to,” Neil begins.

            “She’s going.” Charlie says, and no one says anything else.

            I groan and glance at Knox. It looks like he’s trying to concentrate on what he’s doing, but I’m sure he’s not. I bet his mind keeps drifting to Chris any chance it gets.

            I wrap my arms around myself loosely. “It’s,” Charlie looks over at me, and if looks could kill, I’d be out of the party. “It’s just I don’t know how to _act_.”

            “What?” he demands.

            “Quiet down over there!” McAllister calls from the front of the room. I look down at my book.

            “You what?” Charlie asks quietly.

            I shrug. “I’ve never been to a party before, at least one not thrown by our parents and I don’t know what to do.” That statement actually took courage. Judging by the incredulous look the others are now giving me, I’m apparently the only one who hasn’t gone to a party before. But I find it hard to believe that Cameron has gone to a real party.

            “Just do what everybody else is doing,” Neil tells me with a shrug.

            Yeah, that helps.

 

We get to dinner early that night. Knox doesn’t eat anything, and I can only force down a roll. Charlie spends this time giving Knox last minute advice. I can’t see how he’s going to get any time alone with Chris considering the party is at her boyfriend’s house.

            “At six-thirty, come down to our room,” Neil tells me as we climb the stairs to our rooms.

            “This is stupid. If I get caught, you can explain it to my father.”

            He laughs. “You’re not going to get caught. And stop worrying,” he tells me as he nudges my arm with his hand. The touch sends my stomach into butterflies, but I wish he would touch me again. My arms wrap around my waist as we stop at my door.

            “Don’t do that,” he says softly, reaching out his hand and places it on my elbow.

            “Don’t tell me what to do,” I say, trying to sound lighthearted. I sigh heavily and look at my door. “I should get ready.”

            “It’s going to be fine,” he reassures me. “Maybe you’ll make some new friends.”

            I laugh shortly. “I like my friends now.” I open the door and slip inside before he can say anything else or touch me again. God, doesn’t he know what he does to me when he touches me?

            I take a moment to lean against the door before I push off it and head to my closet. I don’t have a lot of clothes besides my uniform, and I try to find something nice to wear.

            I finally settle on my yellow dress. It has three-quarter length sleeves, so it should be okay for the walk there, but also inside. I pair it with a pair of white knee socks and my brown dress shoes.

            I move to the bathroom and take my hair out of its ponytail. I brush it out, but there’s a ring around it from the band. I pull my makeup bag out from under the sink and grab my hair curler. Might as well go all the way, right?

            When I’m done, I glance at the clock. Its 6:35 and I open my door a crack. No one is in the hallway, so I open the door wider, looking up and down the hallway.

            I hear a door open down the hallway, and see Neil and Charlie stick their heads out. Neil waves to me and I close my door quietly and rush down the hallway and into the room. Knox is already there, wearing a pair of slacks, a white shirt, and his Welton tie.

            I glance around the room. Everybody’s looking at me, and I don’t like it. “Don’t look so surprised,” I say, trying to force a smile. “You’ve seen me dressed like this before.”

            “Are you ready?” Knox asks, jumping up from Todd’s chair and moving towards the door.

            “Well, yeah.”

            Knox opens the door slowly and checks the hallway. He motions for me to follow him

            “Have fun!” Charlie calls to us in a stage whisper. Again, I realize, I hate him.

            It’s still early, but we manage to escape the building easily. Knox tells me it’s about a thirty minute walk, so we’ll get there a bit after seven, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

            “Nervous?” I ask as we turn onto Clay Street.

            “Excited. Margo, you’ll love her. I hope you two have the chance to talk,”

            “Knoxious,” I say, using Charlie’s nickname for him. “I feel like I already know her, because you won’t shut up about her.”

            “I can’t help it! She’s just so…” he trails off, and I let the subject drop. He’s seen her once and talked to her, what, twice? How can he be so smitten, and so open about it, in such a short amount of time? “I just…” he trails off again. We walk the next few blocks in silence until he breaks it again. “Can I ask you something?”

            “Of course,” I tell him. He knows better, he knows he doesn’t have to ask.

            “What’s going on between you and Neil?”

            My stomach drops. I should have known he’d be wondering, considering how he and Charlie caught us yesterday.

            “Not that,” I mumble, wrapping my arms around myself. I want to forget about Neil tonight.

            “Why not that?” he questions, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “You sure were close yesterday.”

            “It was nothing.”

            “It didn’t look like nothing.” He pauses, and I figure maybe if I stay quiet, he’ll get bored and drop the subject. “Neil told us about your parents.”

            “What?” I demand, heart pounding. I always assumed that was a secret between the two of us. I didn’t tell anyone, so why did he have to say something?

            “I’m also not stupid,” he continues. “I have eyes.”

            I stop walking and turn to him. “I don’t want to talk about this,” I tell him. “I mean it.”

            He raises his hands quickly. “I think you’re being stupid. Carpe diem, you know.” I raise an eyebrow and stare at him until he raises his hands again. “Okay, okay.”

            We start walking again. There’s a heavy silence between us, and I don’t like it. I don’t know what he’s thinking, whether it’s me and Neil, or Chris, or a million other things, but I don’t like the tension hanging in the air.

            “Have you noticed how much Todd has changed?” I blurt out as we turn down Elm Street. We should only be a couple minutes away now.

            He lets out a short laugh. “Have I? He could barely put a sentence together, and now he’s speaking them like he never had a problem.”

            “I wonder what happened.”

            He shrugs. “It was probably Neil. Anybody else would have given up.”

            I nod and we fall back into silence. He’s right though. Neil is a good person, he-

            I shake my head and force my thoughts away from him. Focus on the party. Have fun at the party. Forget at the party.

            Knox stops suddenly and I almost bump into him.

            “What are you stopping for?” I demand.

            “This is it!” he tells me, smiling so widely it looks like it hurts. “Somewhere in there is Chris. And tonight, she’s going to be mine.”

            “If you can pry her away from Chet,” I remind him.

            “She’s going to be mine,” he repeats before heading up the walk, up the steps, and knocking on the door. I follow quickly. He presses his ear to the door, and then opens the door slowly.

            “Hello?” he calls. “Chris?”

            He enters the house and I follow behind him. He stops at the mirror as I close the door behind us.

            I would really like to not be here.

            “Knox!”

            We both look up. A girl, who I can only assume is Chris, is hurrying down the hallway towards us. Her blonde hair is tied back in a ribbon, and to be fair, it’s easy to see why Knox is so taken by her.

            “You made it! Great! And you brought somebody!”

            Knox blinks quickly. “Uh, yeah. This is Margo. She’s a friend from school.”

            I wave quickly and she nods back. Charlie was wrong. He should be here. Me being here isn’t going to make Chris want to talk to Knox more. This is stupid. I should be at school, studying my history text.

            To my surprise, when Chris passes, she grabs Knox’s jacket and pulls him with her as she heads for the stairs to the second floor.

            “I have to go fine Chet. Why do you go downstairs where everybody is?” She lets go of his jacket and hurries up the stairs. “Make yourself at home!” she calls before she disappears.

            “But I-” He stops when he realizes she’s not there. He turns to me.

            “This is going well,” I say flatly.

            He sighs. “Margaret, just give it time.”

            I nod slowly. “Sure thing Overstreet.”

            His eyes flicker back to the stairs, clearly hoping Chris will come back down, but almost a minute passes and there’s still no sign of her. I’m getting bored.

            “Ready to go downstairs?” he finally asks.

            I shrug, even though I know he can’t see it. “I guess.”

            He tears his gaze from the stairs and gestures for me to go ahead of him.

            This should be fun.

            We head downstairs, and right away I realize what kind of party this is. There are couples kissing all over the room, and a group of guys playing some sort of drinking game in the corner. I turn wide-eyed to Knox, who is busy staring at a couple kissing against the wall by the stairs.

            “What have you gotten me into?” I demand.

            He looks up at me, and his eyes are glossing over in a way I don’t like. I turn away from him and look around the room again. This really isn’t what I expected. I hate Charlie for forcing me here.

            “Let’s get something to drink,” he offers, stepping away from the kissing couple. I follow him to the kitchen and see right away there’s nothing non-alcoholic short of tap water. Knox fills up a cup from the keg and hands it to me. I take it and look at it for a moment.

            Carpe diem.

            I take a sip and wince. Oh god, how are these other people drinking this? It’s terrible. Knox fills up another cup and quickly drinks from it. I notice he doesn’t wince and I can’t help but wonder how many parties like this he’s been to.

            I don’t have the chance to ask him though. Two guys standing next to the sink grab Knox. I think they’re both drunk, and they think they know Knox, and won’t let him out of their sight. He looks over at me, confused, and I shrug before heading back to the basement.

            I lean against the back wall, out of everybody’s way, and just stand there. Hopefully Knox will want to leave soon and we’ll be back early.

            I take a sip of beer without thinking and wince again. Beer is really disgusting and I don’t even know why I’m still drinking it.

            “Girls don’t usually like beer.”

            I glance to my right. There’s a boy leaning against the wall next to me. He looks over and smiles. His blonde hair is falling out of place, and he’s got to be hot in the letterman’s jacket he has on. It has an R on the left hand side, and I assume he’s a friend of Chet’s.

            I point to his jacket. “Football?” I ask casually.

            “Baseball,” he corrects. He shifts the cups and bottle he’s holding and offers me his hand. “Percy.”

            “Margo,” I say, shaking his hand quickly. I glance around the room. Knox must still be upstairs.

            “You don’t go to Ridgeway, do you?” he questions.

            I shake my head. “No. I know Chris.” I pause and then shrug. “Kind of.”

            Percy nods and I look around again. Still no Knox. I’m going to kill him for leaving me alone. I take another sip from my cup, and it’s even worse when it’s warm.

            “Here,” Percy says. He takes my cup from me and I’m flabbergasted. He hands me another cup, also filled with a brown liquid. “Try this.”

            “What is it?” I question, looking into the cup.

            “Try it.”

            I look up at him. He’s taller and bigger than anyone I know. He’s even taller than Pitts, and I didn’t think that was possible. He nods his head once and I shrug before I take a sip.

            “Not so bad,” he says, and he’s right. It’s sweet, and only has a slight burn after I swallow.

            My mind drifts to the others. I wonder if they’ve ever drank before. I’m sure Charlie has, but I wonder if Meeks, Cameron, Neil-

            My stomach flips when I think of Neil. I wish he was here. Then again, if he was here, and we were drinking, could I keep my secret to myself? Or would I do something stupid, like tell him, or flirt with him, or kiss him. My stomach flips again when I think about kissing him and without thinking, I down the rest of my cup.

            “Easy there,” says Percy – is that his name? My head is getting foggy. It might have been Peter, or Patrick. No, I don’t think it was Peter. “That’s all alcohol.” I say nothing, but hold my cup up for more. He smiles and refills it. “Usually restaurants only let you have two.”

            I drain half the cup. Carpe diem, right? “Good thing we’re at a party.”

            He laughs and I finish my cup.

 

Two glasses later, everything is spinning and the guy I’m talking to is trying to find out more about me, but I refuse to tell him anything. I think he must be drunk because he keeps laughing. I’m working on my fifth cup, but he keeps putting his hand on my arm to stop me from drinking it quickly. In my fog, I realize he’s flirting with me. I wish I could remember his name. It’s either Patrick or Percy.

            I find myself wishing it was Puck, my Puck. No, not Puck. Not mine.

            I take another sip and Percy/Patrick doesn’t stop me. My hands are shaking. Why are my hands shaking? If he was here, would Neil be watching over me? Where is he now? Still at the cave?

            Patrick/Percy starts laughing at something, and he leans in close to me. My heart leaps, but I think it’s the alcohol.

            I shake my head, but I’m laughing with him. It’s like I have no control over my body. I splash a little of my drink out of the cup and it hits his shoe.

            “Oh my god!” I find myself shouting. Why am I shouting? Who’s shouting? “I am so sorry!” I tell him.

            “Well, you’ve just done it.”

            I grab his arms. “I am so sorry!” I repeat. Am I still shouting? Is anyone shouting? “I’ll buy you new shoes.”

            He laughs and I laugh with him. Why is he laughing? “It’s okay. My shoes will survive.”

            “No, I’m serious. This is terrible.”

            He laughs, shaking his head again. “You’re drunk,” he tells me.

            “No I’m not. Margo Evanston does not get drunk!” I take another sip of my drink. My head feels like it’s stuffed with padding. “But if I am, it’s your fault.”

            “I take full responsibility,” he says, and for a minute looks very serious. I laugh again and lean into him. His arm snakes around my waist. My head, and everything else, is spinning.

            Suddenly, there’s a bunch of shouting coming from behind us, and I catch a glimpse of Knox before another boy has him pinned to the floor.

            “Knox!” I shout, handing Patrick/Percy my glass and rushing forward. Chris is holding the other boy back, and I just barely register from her shouts that the boy hitting Knox is Chet.

            “Bastard!” He shouts.

            I trip over the coffee table and kneel beside Knox. He holds his hand out to me, and I don’t say anything because the sudden movement has made me feel woozy and I really want to sleep.

            Chris is suddenly on the other side of Knox. Chet yells at her, and she yells back. I like her fire. She looks up at me and I might have said the words out loud, but I’m not sure.

            “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Knox is telling her, over and over as if he’s afraid she won’t hear him.

            “It’s okay,” she responds as Chet pulls her to her feet and away from us. He points at Knox and says, “Next time I see you, you die.”

            Knox and I stand. I head over to Percy/Patrick/Peter/Puck and grab my cup from him. “Going to need this,” I say with a wink before Knox leads me up the stairs and out the door. I down the rest of the on the porch and toss it into the yard.

            Knox is already at the end of the street when he realizes I’m not with him, but it’s not my fault. The ground is tilted here and I’m having trouble walking over it. Why is the ground tilted? Who designs a crooked street?

            I try to sprint to him, but things tilt even more and I have to stop. I bend over and put my hands on my knees. I start laughing and can’t stop. “Knox,” I choke around my laughter. “Oh my god Knox, what did you do?” I demand. I wish things would stop spinning.

            I hear footsteps and when I look up, he’s right next to me. “How did you get so good at walking?” I demand. How is he navigating the crooked street?

            “Margo, are you drunk?”

            I start laughing again, and I don’t think I’m ever going to stop.

            He grabs my arm and we walk in silence down the street. In the silence, nothing is crooked, but as soon as I start laughing, everything tilts and I have to slow down or else I’ll fall. I don’t really want to fall. Knox would probably let me fall.

            We’re about home when I stop.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Can you make things stop spinning, please?” I ask, and then I start laughing again. Why can’t I stop laughing? I want to stop laughing.

            “Oh god, Neil is going to kill me,” Knox groans, running his fingers through his hair.

            “Don’t mention Neil,” I tell him.

            “He told me to keep an eye on you and,”

            “Don’t mention him!” I shout. “Or else I’m going to do something stupid like tell you I love him and I can’t do that!” I cover my mouth with my hands, but start laughing again anyway. Who cares? Knox already knew.

            He turns to me slowly. “You what?”

            “You can’t tell him about tonight!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I can’t be around him anymore than I am now. I can’t.”

            “Why?” he asks, looking confused. “I thought you just said,”

            “No!” I shout again. “I don’t. I can’t. I want, I want, I don’t know. I want to love someone like, someone like Charlie, or someone from Ridgeway! I don’t want to love Neil!” I wrap my arms around him and lean my forehead against the crook of his neck. “Don’t you understand?”

            There’s a pause, and I don’t know why there’s a pause, but there is. “No,” he finally says.

            I push away from him. Why doesn’t he understand? “My parents would kill me if I ended up with someone they thought didn’t have potential!”

            Knox just stares at me for a minute. I start to feel uncomfortable, so I start laughing again. Will I laugh anymore after tonight, or is this all my laughter I’m allowed in a lifetime. Oh my god, can that happen? Do we have a set amount of laughter, or tears, and once we use them all, that’s it?

            “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” I ask a minute later.

            “Not on my life,” he says.

            I turn to him. “I believe you. Because you’re a good person. And you would never do anything to hurt anyone on purpose.”

            He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Margo, you’re drunk.”

            I shove him again, but the motion makes the road tilt and I grab for him. “And you’re an asshole,” I say once I can stand up again.

            He takes my arm and we walk again in silence. I can see the school looming above us, and I’m dreading going back there. I like this. I like this freedom I have here. I like parties. I never said goodbye to Percy/Peter. I’m sure he won’t mind.

            There are two people standing at the corner by the school. Knox slows to a crawl and curses under his breath. I bite my lips together to keep from laughing, but it doesn’t do any good because I’m laughing loudly again.

            “Margo,” he groans, rubbing his forehead.

            “Hey!” one of the figures calls softly, and I think I recognize the voice, but I can’t see the face, so maybe it’s a trick or something. I don’t know.

            Knox sighs in relief. “It’s Todd.” He grabs my arm again and leads me towards them. How does he know it’s Todd? It could be someone pretending to be Todd!

            We get closer, and the two of them take their hoods off. Right away, I recognize the one on the left and break away from Knox.

            “Neil!” I shout, probably too loudly, but I don’t care. He’s here. He’s here, and he was surely waiting for us, waiting for me. Wasn’t he? He must have been. Why else would he be here, outside the school?

            I start jogging towards him, and he hurries towards me. I don’t make it the whole way because the world is suddenly tilted at a higher degree than usual and I have to stop or I’m going to fall.

            Neil comes to a stop in front of me, and glances between Knox and I quickly. He’s here. He’s here because of me. Oh god, I love him so much.

            “What-”

            I grab the back of his head and pull him towards me, kissing him hard. He responds almost instantly, putting his hands on my hips and pulling me impossibly close. My hand runs through his hair, tugging it gently as the other hand cups his face, my fingers dancing over his sharp cheekbones. One of his hands moves from my waist and wraps around the back of my neck. My heart is pounding and I’m sure he can feel it.

            He pushes himself closer and at that moment, what’s happening seems to melt away the fog I’ve been feeling, and suddenly it’s as if I’m wide awake.

            My eyes open quickly, and now my heart is pounding for a different reason. What am I doing?

            I drop my hands and step back away from him. He opens his eyes. There’s a small smile playing on his lips and I feel my heart breaking. How could I have let this happen?

            “Margo,” he starts, but I brush passes him and walk towards the school. He calls after me, but I pick up the pace so I’m jogging away. The world isn’t crooked anymore.

            But oh god, I am so stupid.

            I’m in my room with the door locked before they’re even in the entry way. I hear footsteps, and they pause just outside my door, and my heart won’t stop pounding until he leaves for his own room.

            I undress quickly and bury myself in my bed. Everything is still spinning when I finally fall asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

I wake up the next morning with the sun shining in my face and I groan, and bury my head back into my pillow. My head is pounding and I have the worst taste in my mouth. I sit up slowly and the room spins around me for a moment. I stand and stumble into the bathroom. I grab my toothbrush, but the moment I smell the mint toothpaste, my stomach churns and I barely make it to the toilet in time I throw up, the liquid burning my throat and I grip the bowl tightly. Oh god, I’m an idiot. I never should have drunk so much.

            I close the lid and flush the toilet. I lean back against the tub and try to breathe. I close my eyes and rub my temples, but my head is still pounding. I’m never drinking again after last night. God, I’m an idiot, I-

            My eyes open quickly. My heart starts racing and it doesn’t help my head at all.

            I kissed Neil.

            My stomach flips when I think about it, but it doesn’t make me feel like throwing up again. I kissed Neil, and he kissed me back. His face when I pulled away suddenly won’t leave. He looked happy, he, he…

            I can’t do this. I can’t believe I was so stupid. He was supposed to stay at a distance. He wasn’t supposed to have a permanent place in my heart. So why did I kiss him?

            No. No, I didn’t kiss him. If anyone says I did, I’ll say I won’t remember. Knox said it himself. I was drunk. Drunk people forget their actions, right?

            I groan into my hands, but the longer I’m sitting here, the more the scene repeats in my head. I kissed Neil Perry, and now I’m going to have to hurt him.

            My stomach is turning again. I don’t even have anything in my stomach, but that doesn’t stop me from dry heaving for what feels like hours.

            When I finally stop, I lay on the floor. It’s darker here than the room. I kick the door closed and it gets darker. I sigh into the cold tile and fall back asleep.

            I spend most of the day sleeping in the bathroom. I wake up once with a sore neck and pull a towel down from the cupboard and use it as a pillow. It’s a good thing I’m in the bathroom, because every time I wake up I start gagging and I hate everyone, myself included and at the top of the list.

            I think its twilight when I wake up next. I hear footsteps and groan into my towel. If my head could stop pounding I would be okay. The upset stomach I could deal with, it’s the headache that is killing me here.

            The door opens and even though my eyes are closed, the sudden light, no matter how low, hurts my head and I whimper pathetically.

            “Margo?” More footsteps follow and then somebody kneels down next to me. I open one eye and peak up. Relief floods through me so quickly when I see its Knox that for a strange moment, my headache disappears.

            “Are you alright?” he demands, his voice making me flinch. And here comes the headache. Why is he here?

            “You are saying too many words in too loud a voice,” I whisper, sitting up slowly.

            He laughs, though to his credit it’s quiet, but I still don’t want him laughing me. “You’re pretty sick, huh?”

            I look up at him. Is he stupid or something? “What do you want?” I ask.

            “This explains why you weren’t at assembly this morning.”

            That doesn’t answer my question.

            I lie back down and close my eyes. “What assembly?” I manage to ask. Talking hurts and I want him to leave so I don’t have to talk anymore tonight.

            “Charlie’s an idiot,” he tells me and I laugh until I gag.

            I take a deep breath and ask, “How so?”

            “First he snuck an article in the school paper, and when we were at the assembly, he pulled a stupid stunt and Nolan hauled him off.”

            “Was he expelled?” I ask. How did I miss so much in one day?

            “Of course not. Can you imagine if he had been? Mr. Dalton would have had him back tomorrow.”

            I don’t say anything else. The silence is so welcoming. I’m ready for Knox to leave. If he says anything about last night, or about Neil, I don’t know what I’ll do. Probably die.

            Oh god, I told Knox I love Neil.

            I bury my face back into the towel to hide the embarrassment spreading across my face. I’m never leaving this room. I can’t. I can’t face Neil. I can’t face any of them. Knox needs to leave before I’m sick again.

            “You okay?” he asks, shifting slightly next to me.

            I mumble into the towel nonsense and hope he takes it as actual words. I want him to leave, I have to-

            I have to do something.

            I turn slightly to face him, but don’t open my eyes. “Thanks for getting me back last night,” I tell him. “I can’t imagine it was easy,” I add. Please don’t say anything about Neil. _Please_.

            “Do you remember getting back?” he asks slowly. I open my eyes and see he’s watching me. Why did the future lawyer have to be the one here, questioning me?

            I shrug. “I remember you going off with some people, and drinking with some guy, and the next thing I knew it was morning and I feel like dying.”

            He doesn’t say anything; he just continues to watch me. I struggle not to break eye contact, or do anything that would clue him in on the fact that I’m lying. Oh god, I’m lying and I don’t want to but I am and I want to and I’m an idiot.

            “Dying?”

            “Everything hurts,” I confess. I wish I could tell him it’s not just physical either, but I can’t.

            He pats my shoulder a bit awkwardly and stands. “If you need anything,”

            “I know.”

            He leaves, closing both the bathroom door and the main door behind him and I fall back to sleep.

 

When I wake up next, its morning and my stomach doesn’t hurt anymore than a muscle I think I pulled from dry heaving. My head still hurts, but I sit up slowly. No nausea; that’s a good sign. I stand even slower and my head still hurts, but that’s all. Definitely a good sign.

            I go to my bed and lay down. I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t. I sit up again and lean against the wall, bringing my blankets up around my shoulders. My eyes catch sight of my history book sitting on my desk and my stomach drops. We have a test tomorrow and I forgot all about it.

            I reach over a bit too quickly and things get dark for a moment. I rub my forehead and remind myself to move slower.

            I grab the book and pull it into my lap. I struggle to read the small print; the strain hurts my head, but I have to study. If I don’t study, if I would happen to fail, I, I don’t know what I’d do.

            I have to take breaks in between passages, when the strain becomes too much. I also have to keep rereading passages when I find my mind drifting to Neil. I wonder where he is right now. Did Knox talk to him after last night?

            I get my answer a couple hours later when my door bangs open. The noise of the door hitting the wall sends a shock through my head and I groan.

            The door slams shut again and I look up as another shock runs through my skull.

            “You’re going to kill him,” Charlie shouts, pointing a finger at me. I don’t need to ask who or what he’s talking about. But the fact he just barged in here, and then broke one of my rules, has really ticked me off and I don’t think before I speak.

            “Don’t be so dramatic,” I snap, pulling my book up to my chest. “Considering the fact I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I add quickly. What I wouldn’t give to be able to forget.

            “Knox said you didn’t remember,” he tells me. “But I don’t believe him.”

            “Well, you also thought pulling a prank on Nolan was a good idea.”

            We stare at each of for a long few moments. I wish he’d move away from the door. He’s starting to scare me and I don’t trust him not to do something stupid.

            “Who told you about that?” he asks after another moment.

            “Knox. He came to check on me yesterday.”

            Charlie rubs the back of his neck, and then finally moves further into the room. He sits down at my desk and turns the chair to me.

            “It took me all day yesterday to finally get out of him what happened.”

            I shrug. “What are you talking about?”

            He raises an eyebrow. “You know what I’m talking about.”

            Don’t blush, don’t blush, for god’s sake, don’t blush. I shrug. “I think I flirted with a guy from Ridgeway,” I say slowly, looking up towards the ceiling. “Is that what you were told?”

            “You what?” he demands.

            I look back at him. Both his eyebrows are now raised in shock. I shrug again. “I had a lot of alcohol.” Oh god, please, just drop this. Or leave. I don’t care which one, but I want this conversation over. Maybe I’ll go to the bathroom and pretend like I’m throwing up.

            “You don’t remember,” he says slowly.

            “No.”

            He starts to nod slowly. “Is that what you want me to tell him?” I don’t want Charlie to tell him anything, but it’s better than having to do it myself, I suppose. I couldn’t bear the look on his face if I did it myself.

            “It’s the truth.”

            He nods again. “Okay.” He stands and makes for the door. He turns around and tells me, “Drink some water, it’ll help.”

            “How do you know that?” I ask.

            “I’ve had a hangover before.” He leaves without another word and I bury my face in my pillow and groan into it. I close my eyes tightly, but the tears come anyway.

            I hate myself.

 

I wake early the next morning and hurry to dress and get to breakfast. I want to be the first one there, in case one of them has told the others. I don’t know what I would do if I got to the table late and they told me to sit somewhere else. I try to remind myself that, no, they wouldn’t do that, but Neil is their leader.

            Todd is already sitting at the table when I enter and my stomach drops. What do I do now? Can I still sit there?

            I force myself to start over. Todd looks up when I approach and greets me like he would any other day. I plaster on a smile and sit down next to him. I’m starving and nervous and I don’t know what I should eat or how much I should eat.

            “Don’t eat sausage,” Charlie says from behind me, before sitting down next to me. “Trust me, you’ll regret it.”

            “Then what should I have?”

            “Toast,” he says. “Fruit.” He shrugs. Meeks and Pitts are the next ones to the table. They both look drowsy and I bet they were up late studying for the history test.

            “How are you feeling?” Meeks asks after he finishes off his orange juice in three gulps.

            I shrug. “Shaky. Nervous about the test today.”

            “Tell me about it,” Pitts grumbles from the end of the table.

            Cameron sits down on the other side of Charlie, and a minute later Neil sits down across from me. I butter my toast slowly, trying to stop the blush slowly creeping up to my cheeks. This is stupid, and I’m being obvious that I can’t look at him. The others are talking about one thing or another, and I force my eyes to flicker to Neil. I catch him watching me, and I don’t know how long he’s been doing it. I try to smile at him, but I can’t. He looks too heartbroken.

            Charlie hands me the bowl of fruit and I force myself to look away from Neil. It doesn’t matter that my heart is broken; I just wish I hadn’t broken his.

            I choke down some food, but I’m not hungry and for a moment I think it’s planning a reappearance. How wonderful it would be if it all came back up.

            We head to class soon after, but I might as well be back in my room. I can’t focus throughout the day. My eyes keep finding Neil and every time they do, I see just how hurt he is. I think he’s having trouble concentrating too, and I want to make him better. He, oh god, he’s slumped in his seat, fiddling with his pencil, not taking notes. He reminds me of Todd when he first got to Welton. I’ve broken Neil.

            Captain gives us our assignment due next Monday and dismisses us. I watch Neil sigh and gather up his things. He’s one of the first ones out of the room. I stay in my seat, even as the others filter past me. I have to talk to someone, someone who won’t judge me.

            “You coming?” Pitts asks.

            I shake my head quickly. “I just need to ask a question about the assignment,” I tell him, putting on another fake smile. “I’ll be at lunch in a couple minutes.”

            “Save you a seat,” he says before standing and leaving the room.

            I lean back in my seat and stare at Neil’s seat. I’m an idiot. I’m an asshole. I might hate Charlie, but I think I hate myself even more. No, I do. I hate myself more than I hate Charlie.

            “Margaret?” I glance up. Captain is coming down the aisle towards me. “Is something wrong?” he asks; his tone is light, but his eyes flicker with something a little more serious.

            “I,” I pause and take a deep breath. “I really hurt someone,” I force out.

            His eyebrows jump in surprise. “I’m sure-”

            “I don’t know if he’ll forgive me,” I whisper. I clear my throat quickly. I’m certainly not going to cry in front of him about this. I’m not going to cry at all, that’s a luxury I lost the minute I started lying.

            “Is this person close to you?” he asks as he slides into Charlie’s now empty seat.

            “He was.”

            “Then I’m sure, if you talk to him about it,”

            I shake my head quickly. “I can’t. I lied about it and now no one thinks I remember doing it.”

            There’s a pause. I chance a glance over at him, and he still looks surprised. I take a shaky breath, and I want to continue talking, but I don’t know what to say, and I certainly don’t want to give him anymore particulars than I already have.

            “What happened?” he questions. I should have known he’d ask. I can’t tell him. If I say it out loud, that’ll make it real, and it can’t be real.

            “I can’t,” I say, my voice sounding soft. I clear my throat again. “It was nothing illegal,” I assure him as an afterthought. “Or against school rules.” The last part is probably a lie, but what’s one more?

            “Do you want to know what I think?” I nod. “I think you came to me because you feel guilty.” That wasn’t obvious? “And I think you should talk to whoever it was you hurt. I’m sure it will make you both feel better.”

            I look over at him. I don’t think he understands the word _can’t_. But I don’t think I’m going to be getting out of here anytime soon unless I agree with what he’s saying.

            “I’ll try,” I lie. I just can’t stop once I get going, I suppose.

            He smiles and I try to smile back. “Good,” he says.

            I gather my stuff and he stands.

            “Thanks,” I say before I leave. How stupid I was, thinking he could help. It’s not like he has some magic potion or powder to fix things. I just shouldn’t have been an idiot.

            I skip lunch and get to our history classroom early. I try studying, but my mind keeps drifting to a hundred different things. I’m going to fail this test, and I don’t even care. What does it matter?

            The room fills up quickly, and the usual talking is replaced with pages being flipped as everybody tries to cram in some last minute studying. I take a deep breath and glance over at Neil. I catch his eye and force myself to hold our contact for a moment before I face forward and focus on my test.


	13. Chapter 13

Every day I realize a bit more how much my stupidity hurt Neil. For that week, every time I see him, he looks defeated, devastated, depressed. I didn’t know Neil could be so sad for so long. Usually when he got upset, he was over it quickly. It’s never lasted for almost a whole week.

            Thursday at dinner, he’s absent from the table and I ask Todd about it.

             “He might still be at rehearsals.”

            “No,” Pitts interrupts. “I saw him on our way to dinner.”

            Todd shrugs and I pick at my spaghetti. I’m suddenly not hungry. He’s not here because of me, I know it.

            After dinner I break away from the boys who are going to the lounge and head for my room. I should get to work on my English assignment. Its due Monday and I haven’t even started it. It’s that essay Captain assigned, read the book, write a summary and analysis. I finished _Jane Eyre_ about a week ago and loved it. I’m just having trouble writing about it.

            An hour later there’s a knock on the door. When no one opens the door following the knock, I call over my shoulder, “Its open!”

            The door still doesn’t open, and I groan. I don’t want to have to get up, but I do and open the door.

            “Todd?” I ask. This is an odd surprise. Then I take in his face. He looks a strange combination of desperate and worried. “What is it?”

            “Will you t-talk to Neil?” he asks quietly, stuttering just slightly.

            I start to shake my head. “Todd,”

            “I know t-things are t-tense between you, but, but,” he stops and looks away. This is the most stuttering he’s done in a while and it’s worrying me.

            “Okay, just take your time, and tell me what’s wrong,” I say slowly.

            He takes a deep breath. “H-he hasn’t m-moved since dinner. H-he won’t talk to m-me, or Charlie and,”

            “He’s not going to talk to me,” I interrupt.

            “He might.”

            We make and keep eye contact for a minute. This is the most eye contact I’ve had with Todd, and it’s kind of weird.

            I want to tell him no, tell him to find one of the others and try them. Neil surely would talk to one of the others. He won’t talk to me. After everything that happened, there’s no way he’ll talk to me.

            But instead of saying all that, I agree to try. I close the door behind us. I wasn’t making any progress on my work anyway.

            “I’ll be back later,” Todd tells me before slipping into Meeks’ room. Oh great, I’m going to be alone with Neil for the first time since, what, my birthday?

            I stop at their door, my hand frozen on the handle. I can’t do this. What if he’s upset because of me?

            A thought crosses my mind and I stand up a bit straighter. Yes. If this is about me, I’ll tell him I’m sorry. I’ll tell him I lied.

            I’ll tell him I love him.

            I push the door open. He’s sitting on the windowsill, head resting on the frame, looking out the window. I stand in the doorway for a minute, just watching him. He doesn’t turn to me, or move at all, while I watch.

            “Neil?” I ask softly after another minute.

            His head jerks towards me. He’s clearly surprised to see me, but he says nothing, he just turns back to the window. I wait a moment before I close the door behind me and step further into the room.

            “Neil?” I repeat. He takes a deep, shaky breath but still doesn’t respond. “Todd sent me. He said you weren’t talking or moving.” Silence.

            He’s never this quiet. Adrenaline is rushing through me because I don’t know what’s wrong, because he won’t talk to me. I close the space between us quickly. He glances over at me and I see the tearstains on his cheeks.

            “Talk to me,” I beg. He’s been crying. I haven’t seen Neil cry since he broke his wrist skiing when we were little. I want to hug him, but he’s sitting at such an angle that it would be uncomfortable, and I also still don’t know what’s wrong.

            He takes another shaky breath, and wipes his eyes in two quick motions. I raise my hand and wrap it gently around his arm. He glances down at it as I rub my thumb across his upper arm. He coughs once, and then turns back to the window.

            I open my mouth to ask him again when he says, “He found out.” His voice is thick and I’m certain he was crying even when I came in.

            “What?” I don’t understand what he means. I don’t know who _he_ is or why it’s upset Neil as much as it has.

            “He found out about the play,” he whispers to the window. My heart drops. Mr. Perry. Mr. Perry did this to Neil. “He said I have to give it up.”

            My hand grips his arm a bit tighter. “You can’t. The show’s tomorrow night, isn’t it?”

            He lets out a short laugh, but it’s hollow and bitter and sends a chill through my body. It’s weird coming from him and I don’t like it. “That doesn’t matter to him. Nothing matters to him. I don’t matter to him.”

            I cup his face and turn him to face me. His eyes are watering and my heart breaks a bit more. “That’s not true,” he rolls his eyes, “and even if it is true, you matter to a lot of people.”

            “Like who?”

            “Todd,” I say right away, considering I’m in the room that’s half his. “Charlie. Knox, Meeks, Pitts, even Cameron. The other boys on the floor. Your mother. Mr. Keating. My parents.” I pause for the briefest of moments. “Me,” I whisper.

            He tries to move his head away, but I won’t let him. I force him to look back up at me. A tear escapes his eye and hits my fingers. I brush it away quickly and lean my forehead against his. “You matter so much,” I whisper. My heart is racing and I’m not entirely sure if it’s from fear or our closeness or a combination of the two.

            He finally moves from his position in the window. I pull back a bit to give him space. His feet hit the floor and then he’s pulling me towards him, hugging me tightly. I wrap my arms around him and hug him back, holding onto him. He’s shaking and I hate Mr. Perry for doing this.

            “It’s okay,” I tell him, because I desperately want it to be true. “It’ll be okay.”

            His face is in the crook of my neck, and its sending chills through my body. “I don’t know what to do.”

            I pull away just enough to see his face. More tears are falling and I wipe them away with one hand, keeping the other one around him. “You need to talk to someone, someone who doesn’t have a biased in this.”

            “You’re biased?” he asks, and I think he’s trying to make a joke, but all I can give him is a small smile.

            “Of course I am,” I tell him. I cup his cheek again. “You know me. I’m all about one disobeying their parents.”

            He almost smiles and I take that as a good sign.

            I pull away from him fully. “Come on.”

            His face falls and his eyebrows are pulled together. “What are we doing?”

            “You’re going to see Mr. Keating.”

            He shakes his head quickly. “I can’t. I can’t talk to him about this.”

            “He’ll help you and he’ll be unbiased.” I take a deep breath. “Do you trust me?” I ask softly.

            “Of course I do,” he responds quickly.

            I nod and then hold my hand out to him. He looks at it for a moment, and then takes it slowly. He stands and I lead him out of the room. We walk to the classrooms in silence. I still have his hand, and I turn my hand and curl our fingers together. His grip tightens, but he remains quiet.

            We reach Captain’s door and I turn to Neil. “Talk to him. He’ll help you, I promise.”

            He shrugs and again almost smiles. “It can’t be any worse than it is now.”

            “Exactly,” I say, trying to be lighthearted. “Always look on the bright side.”

            His hand slips from mine as he moves to the door. “You should go back,” he says. “So you don’t get in trouble.”     

            “Not until you go in.”

            He sighs heavily before turning to the door. He raises his hand and knocks on the door. A voice on the other side calls for him to enter. Neil turns back to me for a moment.

            “Thanks,” he says before opening the door and slipping into the room.

            “You’re welcome,” I whisper as the door closes.

            I take a couple deep breaths before I go back to the rooms. I go to Meeks’ room and enter. Todd looks up, and then jumps up from the bed he was reading on.

            “Having a study group?” I ask when I realize Charlie, Knox, and Cameron are in the room as well.

            “What happened?” Todd asks.

            I shrug and take a seat on Meeks’ bed. “He’s talking to Mr. Keating right now. I don’t know if it’ll be better, but it can’t be worse.”

            “What was wrong with him?” Knox asks..

            I bite my lip for a moment. Is that something Neil would want me keeping a secret? I mean, surely one of the boys on this floor could have seen Mr. Perry and mentioned something. Neil would never know it was me that said anything.

            “Margo?”

            “His father told him to quit the play.”

            There are general cries of outrage from around the room, even from Todd. I don’t know why he keeps surprising me, but he does. Charlie chooses some colorful words for Mr. Perry and I almost blush.

            “I talked to him, and then took him to Mr. Keating. I figured he needed some unbiased advice.”

            “What do you think he’ll do?” Pitts asks.

            “Knowing Neil?” I pause, thinking hard. “I don’t know.”


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning at breakfast, Neil seems to be feeling better. He’s talking, for one, and smiling more, and I’m relieved. Whatever happened last night between him and Captain surely helped.

            “Where’s Knox?” Cameron asks when he arrives to the table.

            “Ridgeway,” Charlie says around a mouthful of food. Everybody stops and stares at him. He swallows his food and continues, “Said something about apologizing to Chris. He was up all night writing her a poem.” He says the last part almost seductively as he wiggles his eyebrows.

            “He’s insane,” I mumble, shaking my head. Chet is going to murder him, and I really don’t want Knox to be dead.

            “But persistent,” Neil offers. Technically he’s right, but Knox is still going to get killed.

            The bell rings and we leave the dining hall for class. We bump into Knox, coming out of the kitchens and Charlie shots. “How’d it go? Did you read it to her?” The others start talking over him, but Charlie hushes them quickly. Now that I can see Knox is not dead, I find myself a bit anxious to hear what happened.

            “Yeah.”

            “What’d she say?” Pitts asks.

            “Nothing.” Knox tells us. This story is terrible! Knox is terrible!

            “Nothing,” Charlie repeats.

            “What do you mean _nothing_?” I demand, stepping forward.

            “Nothing,” Knox repeats. I glance around the circle we’ve formed around him. Everybody looks as frustrated as I feel. “But I did it.”

            He turns and starts down the hallway. We all exchange confused looks before Charlie takes off after him. “What did she say?” he calls. “I know she had to say something!”

            “Come here, Knox!” Pitts calls as he hurries after Charlie. The others follow and I’m the last one, jogging around the other students. They’re all nerds, but I wouldn’t have them any other way.

            We make it to class on time, and Charlie spends the entire time trying to get Knox to tell him what happened, but Knox isn’t talking. He just keeps smiling to himself; probably because he was brave enough to read Chris an embarrassing poem in front of strangers.

            My eyes flicker over to Neil. He’s concentrating hard on copying the notes from the board. I can see a hint of last night on his face, but it’s just a hint. After tonight, things are surely going to be better.

            I wish I could talk to him.

            I don’t find the time, even though I want to desperately. I want to do it alone. I want to talk to him; I want to tell him everything. I can’t do it between classes. He stays after English to talk to Captain, and at lunch talk is still of Chris; and some of the play tonight.

            I look up at him during study hall. He’s reading through his copy of _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ and I can’t help but smile. I don’t know what Captain said to him, but I’m so relieved he’s doing the play. He worked too hard to just throw it away now.

            After study hall, I plan to spend first part of free period in my room doing homework, but I can’t stop thinking about Neil. I could talk to him now.

            No, no, I can’t. He’s probably rehearsing with Todd and I don’t want to fluster him, or, heaven forbid, upset him.

            But there is someone I could talk to.

            I leave my room and walk down the hallway. I open the door without knocking and Charlie looks up at me from his book. I falter in the doorway. Why is Charlie doing homework so early on a Friday?

            “Need something?” he asks, and I realize I’ve been standing here looking at him quietly for about a minute.

            “Where’s Cameron?” I question. I don’t want him in here. I want it to just be Charlie. Charlie, for some reason I can’t fully understand, has to know first.

            He laughs. “You’re looking for him?” he asks. I shake my head and wait for an answer. “He said something about the library,” he shrugs. “I wasn’t really listening.”

            I turn and look up and down the hallway. There’s no one there, but I close the door softly behind me. Charlie’s eyebrows jump in surprise.

            I make my way over to Cameron’s chair and sink into it. I don’t know how to say it. Is it something that needs a transition, or is it okay to just blurt out?

            I hear his chair creak and assume he’s turned to face me. “Uh, do you need something?” he repeats.

            I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling. My heart is pounding. I open my mouth, only to find myself momentarily unable to speak. Once I say it, I can’t take it back.

            “Margo?”

            “I’m in love with him,” I whisper, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face. Saying it out loud gives me such a release that I get goosebumps up my arms.

            “I know,” Charlie says, and I don’t need to look to know he’s smirking.

            My smile falters. “I kissed him and then lied about it.”

            “I know,” he says again, but this time he sounds a bit more serious.

            I’m silent for a moment. I love him. I said it out loud. I said it, and the fluttering in my heart only helps prove that I mean it. I smile widely and it hurts my cheeks and I love it, and I love everything.

            “What are you going to do?”

            “I’m going to tell him,” I say immediately. I turn in the chair to face him. “I’m going to tell him!” I shout, jumping from my chair. I can’t stop smiling, and then I start giggling and I cover my face with my hands, trying to get a grip on myself, but it’s hard.

            I rush over to Charlie, who’s also smiling, and grab his shoulders. “Right after the play! He has to know. I have to tell him!” This is great. I’m going to do it. To hell with my hang ups with my parents; for all I care, they won’t have to know until after graduation.

            “Why not now?”

            I roll my eyes as I drop my hands. “I can’t risk messing him up.” Is he stupid or something? Neil needs to focus!

            My smile ebbs and Charlie’s follows. “What?” he demands.

            “What if he’s mad?” I ask.

            “He won’t be.”

            “What if I upset him?”

            “You won’t.”

            “How do you know that?”

            Charlie rolls his eyes. “Come on, with the way he talks about you? He’ll just be happy you finally came around.”

            Neil talked about me to Charlie? The very thought makes my stomach flip and I drop onto Charlie’s bed and dissolve into a fit of giggles.

            Charlie sighs and returns to his book. “Girls,” he mumbles.

 

Neil leaves right after dinner and I can’t help but think this time tomorrow so many things are going to be different. It’s going to be great.

            The play starts at nine, and is supposed to end around eleven. Captain is taking us in the school station wagon. It’s going to be a tight fit, but I don’t even care. I’m so excited I could burst.

            I get ready slowly. I decide to wear my dark green dress, with a black sash that ties around my waist. I curl my hair and put on a bit of makeup. I want everything to be perfect. I want to look perfect.

            I head down the hallway and hear shouts coming from the bathroom. I push the door open and peak in. The boys are crowded around the mirrors, fixing their hair or ties. They’re laughing and goofing off.

            “Come on Charlie!” Meeks calls.

            “It’s Nuwanda!” I hear coming from one of the stalls. I don’t want to think about what he’s doing in there.

            I move over to Knox, who’s sitting up on the sill to one of the frosted windows. He looks sad, and after what happened today, I’m not entirely sure why.

            “Hey,” I say when I reach him. He doesn’t say anything, just glances over at me. “Hey,” I say again. “Cheer up!” He lets out a short laugh. That’s good. I raise my fists and start gently punching his shoulder. “Come on.”

            “Margo, knock it off,” he tells me, raising one of his hands to block my fists.

            “Not until you cheer up!” I cry.

            He sighs and turns to face me. He raises both his hands, palms out to me, and I keep hitting them. “Why are you in such a good mood anyway?” he asks.

            “Because tonight is going to be great!” I tell him, bouncing on the balls of my feet. “Neil’s doing the play despite his father, and after the play I’m telling him I love him.” Oh god, saying it out loud is so wonderful. I wonder if I’ll always feel this strange mix of bliss and relief every time I say it.

            Knox lowers his hands and I hit his collarbone before I can stop myself.

            “I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly, dropping my hands.

            “You’re going to what?” Knox asks slowly. There’s silence behind us. I turn and see the others staring at me.

            “What?” I ask with a shrug. “Knox can tell a girl he just met that he loves her, so why can’t I tell the boy I’ve known my whole life?”

            There’s a pause, and then Pitts turns back to the mirror. “Finally,” he mumbles.

            I laugh before turning back to Knox. “And like you didn’t know.”

            “Come on Nuwanda. You’re going to miss Neil’s entrance.” Todd says over his shoulder towards the stall Charlie’s in.

            “He said something about getting red before we left.”

            “Getting red?” Cameron asks.

            “What does that mean?” I ask Pitts, who has just joined me and Knox by the window.

            “I, well, you know Charlie.”

            The stall door bangs open and Charlie steps out, holding a small bottle of something and a brush. He’s smirking and I look up to share a confused look with Pitts.

            “What’s this _getting red_ bit?” Cameron demands.

            Charlie reaches up and opens his shirt. He’s painted a large red lightning bolt down his chest. I roll my eyes. I really don’t understand him sometimes.

            “W-What is that?” Todd asks.

            “It’s an Indian warrior symbol for virility. Makes me feel potent,” I start laughing and he turns to me. “Like it can drive girls crazy.”

            “Are you being driven crazy?” Pitts asks, nudging me with his elbow.

            “Like you can’t believe,” I tell him flatly.

            “Come on, Charlie, the girls are waiting.”

            Charlie starts buttoning his shirt as the others grab their coats. I tug mine on and follow Cameron and Meeks out of the bathroom. We head downstairs, where Captain is waiting for us outside the left side doors with the station wagon.

            Cameron stops in the hallway and I bump into him. I open my mouth to say something, but he turns to me, looking shocked. I follow his gaze back and see Chris standing in the main doorway, looking flustered.

            I turn to Knox, who looks like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Chris,” he says softly. He removes himself from the group and heads towards her. Never in a hundred years would I have guessed she’d come here; but Knox had better get her outside. The boys aren’t allowed to have female visitors that weren’t direct family. “What are you doing here?” we hear him ask.

            “Let’s go!” Captain shouts from where he’s still standing by the car.

            “Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Knox tells us, waving us away.

            “Yeah, come on,” Charlie tells us, pushing us towards the door. This is so unfair. I want to see what happens! But I allow Charlie to push me outside, before returning momentarily to grab Meeks, and we start climbing into the car. Pitts and Meeks take the back seat that faces backwards; Cameron, Todd, and Charlie climb into the middle row of seats; I climb in the passenger seat.

            Captain opens the door and peers inside. “What is Knox doing?” he asks.

            “It’s Chris,” Charlie tells him simply, shaking his head slowly. Captain laughs quietly and straightens back up.

            “Will you be joining us, Mr. Overstreet?” he calls.

            “Go ahead, Captain! I’ll walk!”

            Captain shrugs and climbs into the driver’s seat.

            “He’s going to miss Neil’s entrance!” I shout, gesturing out the windshield. I can see them talking.

            “I doubt he’s even thinking about the play,” Captain says before putting the car in drive.

            The drive to Henley takes only about ten minutes, and the theater is packed by the time we get there. The clock above the main doors says it’s ten to nine. It’s looking like a good thing we bought our tickets ahead of time.

            “Let’s get our seats,” Cameron says, and we follow him into the auditorium, which is also packed. I can’t believe how many people are here. I don’t remember the play being that big of a deal when I was here, but things can change in a couple years, I suppose.

            We find seats in the middle, the perfect viewing spot, Captain says.

            I’m feeling more excited with every passing moment. I can’t wait to see Neil up there. He’s been rehearsing with Todd so much, I’m certain it’s going to be great.

            The lights dim, and I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face, a smile that only gets wider once Neil appears.

            Charlie starts to stand. “There he is!” he says in a loud whisper.

            I shush him along with the others. Cameron forces him to sit and Captain tells us to be quiet. I watch him in awe. He doesn’t miss a line, or a cue. Neil truly knows what he’s doing up there, and he’s happy. I can see it from my seat. And the fact that he’s happy makes me happy too.

 

The play seems to drag on, not because it’s boring, but because I want it to be over. I want to talk to him. I don’t know what I’m going to say, but I can’t even think about anything when he’s on stage. I can’t take my eyes away from him.

            Finally the play ends, and I stand with the others and cheer when Neil takes his second bow, but my heart is pounding, and I can feel sweat gathering at my hairline, and I’m starting to think that maybe I could wait for him outside.

            The curtains close, and the people around us start to fight their way to the door. I stand and gather my coat and playbill. We slowly start leaving the aisle. Todd turns around and stops. I nudge him so he’ll hurry, but he stays frozen.

            “Oh no,” he says quietly. I turn and follow his gaze.

            My stomach drops when I realize he’s look at Mr. Perry. He’s just standing there, but I’ve known him long enough to know he’s furious.

            “Come on!” Charlie shouts behind me.

            I turn to him and grab his arm. “Look.”

            Charlie raises an eyebrow, but turns his head to the back row. He curses under his breath and we start moving faster out of the aisle. We dodge our way to the front doors.

            “Maybe he doesn’t know,” Charlie says. I don’t know exactly what he means, but I don’t ask him to elaborate. I just keep my eyes peeled for Neil. Maybe if I get to him before his father-

            I don’t get the chance to finish that thought, because Mr. Perry exits the building, followed closely by Neil, who’s keeping his head down.

            People are trying to congratulate him. Todd calls out to him, but Neil only shakes his head and continues to follow Mr. Perry.

            “Neil!” I shout above the other people. He turns before, again, shaking his head. I push my way through the others. I have to reach him. I have to tell him. I swore. I promised.

            “Neil, wait!” I say again when I’ve reached him. I grab his arm and he turns to me.

            “Margo, I can’t,” he says softly, and I can barely hear him over the crowd. His face shows the same defeat that it did yesterday.

            I open my mouth again, but Mr. Perry is yelling at Neil to come on and get in the car, and Neil is gone from my grasp. He’s in the car and Charlie’s trying to talk to Mr. Perry, but then they’re driving away and all I can do is watch then lights disappear as they turn the corner.

            I didn’t get to tell him.

            Someone touches my arm and I turn. Charlie motions for me to follow him. Apparently we’re walking back to school, but I want to be anywhere else. My coat is still in my arms, and it’s snowing, and I’m cold, but my coat stays in my arms.

            I didn’t get to tell him.

            How stupid I was, thinking it would be easy. Why did Mr. Perry have to show up? God only knows what’s happening right now. Neil won’t say anything. He’ll just let his father tell him what to do, and it’s not fair.

            I stop. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. I don’t want to cry, not here in front of the others. They won’t understand.

            I drop my hands and take a deep breath. It’s cold, but I wish it was colder.

            “Margo?” One of them calls, making me jump.

            I open my eyes. They’re a good couple yards away from me. “I-I just need a minute,” I respond. “I’ll catch up.”

            They don’t move for a moment, but then Charlie jogs the space between us. The others start walking ahead of us.

            “I just need to be alone for a minute.” I tell him.

            He shrugs. “Alright, well, you can be alone with me here.”

            I roll my eyes. “That’s not how that works.”

            “It’s eleven-thirty. We’re not going to just leave you and head back.” He pauses. “Put your coat on,” he demands. “You’re going to freeze.”

            I let out a short laugh. “You’re not my mother.” I take another deep breath and look up at him. “I didn’t get to tell him.”

            “I know,” he says, nodding slowly.

            “Mr. Perry was furious. I-” I don’t know what to say. I wrap my arms around my middle. My hands are frozen, but my face still feels hot. It’s like I have no control.

            “Come on.” Charlie nudges me and I start walking automatically.

            The others are even further away from us now. I wonder what they’re talking about. Knox was with Chris, maybe they’re talking about that

            Charlie and I don’t say anything until we’re back at school. He grabs the door to stop it from closing behind me. I’m ready to be alone.

            “Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

            I nod. “I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

            Charlie nods and says goodnight. I close the door and slip into my pajama’s before going to bed.

            I wish I could have told him tonight.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know where the story goes  
> trigger warning for suicide (implied/mentions/attempts)

It’s still dark outside when I wake. I’m confused as to how I came to be awake, but a moment later there’s knocking on my door and I jump up. I pull on my robe and quickly open the door.

            “Mr. Hager?” I say, before clearing my throat. I squint up at him; the light from the hallway hurts my eyes.

            “Your parents are on their way,” he tells me.

            I suddenly have a lot of questions. Why is he still in his pajamas? Why didn’t he tie his robe shut? Why are my parents coming? What time is it? What is going on? What is this sudden sinking feeling I have in my stomach?

            “They should be here soon.”

            I blink and look back at him, trying to concentrate, but I’m feeling too tired and too confused. “I don’t understand.”

            “Get dressed and go downstairs. They’ll explain it on the way.”

            He leaves, and I watch him go back to his room. I’m left with another question: where are we going?

            I close the door and turn my light on. The clock says its five thirty. Shouldn’t Mr. Hager be awake and dressed by now? Or does he sleep in on Sundays?

            I get dressed slowly, just throwing on the dress I wore last night. The one I thought Neil would like.

            When I’m presentable enough for five thirty, I head downstairs and wait by the front doors. My brain clicks through hundreds of scenarios that would warrant this morning visit, but they either seem too insane or too saddening and I try to force my mind from it. I look back and forth between the window and the clock above the office door. How much longer am I going to have to wait?

            It’s not much longer. At precisely 5:50, headlights clear the last hill of the driveway and I rush outside. It’s still snowing heavily, and the driveway is covered.

            The car stops just in front of me, and father opens his door and gets halfway out of the car.

            “Get in Margaret,” he tells me, but with less force than I was expecting. “We have to go.”

            I open my mouth to question what exactly is going on, but the look on father’s face tells me I shouldn’t. His face almost has a gray tint to it; he looks sick.

            I figure the longer I stand out here, the longer I’ll have to wait for answers, so I quickly pull open the door behind my mother and climb in. The heater is going full blast, but I can’t stop shaking.

            “What’s wrong?” I ask as father turns the car around and we head back down the driveway. “Where are we going?”

            “Margaret!” Mother snaps, her voice echoing inside the car. My hands clasp together on my lap as my face burns red. I hate being yelled at. If they would just tell me what was going on, then I wouldn’t have to ask questions.

            No one speaks. Father turns to mother, but he doesn’t say anything. He just keeps driving into town, and then into the city. I desperately want to ask them again to tell me what’s going on, but the air in the car is so tense that I can hardly breathe, let alone ask questions.

            We pull into a parking garage a couple minutes later. I’m out of the car first and look around me to find something that’ll answer my questions. All I see is a sign that says LOBBY with an arrow pointing to the left. My parents are already heading in that direction and I follow behind them, still looking for other signs.

            We enter the building and I get the only sign I need to tell me anything.

            Behind the front desk is a large sign that reads _St. Mary’s Hospital_.

            I stop in my tracks. While that’s one question answered, but now I have almost a hundred more.

            “Rebecca said they were on the fourth floor,” mother says, without pausing. She’s heading straight for the elevators and I stare after her. I realize in a mind numbing moment that mother only knows one Rebecca.

            “We’re here because of Mrs. Perry?” I ask slowly, looking over at father.

            He drapes his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me tightly. “They’ll explain everything when we find them,” he says. I don’t like this. I cross my arms over my chest and hold myself tight. I want to know what’s going on now.

            I clench my hands into fists when I feel them shaking. I want to object, but I know it won’t do any good, so I allow father to lead me to the elevator. It seems to take forever for the elevator to finally reach the fourth floor.

            When the doors finally open, I follow behind my parents as they search for the Perry’s. If Mrs. Perry is the one who called, then who is the one who needs to be here? Or is it both of them? Did they get into a call accident on the way home?

            My hands start to shake more, and I tighten my fists. I do _not_ like this.

            “Elizabeth!” I look up and see Mrs. Perry hurrying towards us, with Mr. Perry following behind her. My father goes to meet Mr. Perry halfway and they start speaking quietly.

            Mrs. Perry embraces my mother tightly and I can see she’s been crying.

            I freeze. If Mr. and Mrs. Perry are here, then…

            “Where’s Neil?” I ask quietly, looking back and forth between the four of them. Nobody says anything and my stomach drops. I’m starting to freak out.

            Mrs. Perry glances over her shoulder at her husband, and then grabs mothers arm. “Come on, Margaret,” she says as she leads us away. I follow without thinking.

            She leads us down the hallway a bit to a small waiting room off of the main hallway and we all sit down. Mother has her arms around Mrs. Perry and I try to be patient for her to speak, but the silence is driving me crazy.

            “Tom found him this morning,” Mrs. Perry starts. “He was outside. We don’t know for how long, but the doctors think it was most of the night.”

            Everything seems to freeze. My arms tighten around me as tight as they can, and I stare at Mrs. Perry without seeing her.

            “He was taken upstairs. Dr. Ellis wanted to have him tested; he hasn’t spoken a word since he woke up.”

            She continues to speak, but I don’t hear her. I try to breathe. He’s alive. Neil is alive. That is all that matters.

            And not the fact that I think he did this on purpose.

            “Margaret?” Mrs. Perry asks softly, reaching her hand out to me.

            “Is he going to be okay?” I ask. I look up and force myself to focus on her.

            She nods slowly. “Dr. Ellis believes Neil will make a full recovery.”

            I let out a long sigh and lean my head back against the couch. I release my arms from around my chest and bring my hands up to my face. It feels hot under my fingers.

            “Margaret?” mother asks this time. I wait for her to continue, but she remains quiet, even after I drop my hands and give her my full attention. She’s watching me in a way I’ve never seen before. She’s also giving me her full attention. It’s a bit frightening.

            “Can I go down to the cafeteria and get something to drink?” I question slowly. I don’t know if that’s considered rude or not, but I have to get out of here. I have to have some time to myself.

            And then I have to see Neil.

            “Of course,” mother says quickly. She digs around her purse and pushed a folded bill into my hand. I take it with a smile and leave the room before anyone says something.

            I find it easier to breathe in the hallway. I grip the money tighter in my fist as I get onto the elevator down to the ground floor.

            The cafeteria isn’t busy, like at all. There’s two doctors talking to the girl at the register, but besides them, I’m the only one in the room. I go to the one machine and get a hot chocolate. It’s not going to help the exhaustion I feel creeping up on me, but maybe it’ll help me feel better.

            I sit at a table near the door and hold the cup in my hands; thankfully my hands have stopped shaking. It’s already weird to think that yesterday things seemed so great. Everything was going perfect until Mr. Perry showed up to the play. If he wouldn’t have shown up, Neil would be safe and sound, and asleep, back at school.

            School.

            I jump up at the thought and grab for the coins I received as change. I have to call the school. I have to get a hold of Todd, or Charlie. Anyone. They should be here. I need them here. I don’t know what I’m doing.

            I find a payphone in the lobby and drop in the only coins I have before dialing the number.

            It rings three times before someone picks up. “Thank you for calling Welton Academy. This is Maggie speaking, how may I help you?”

            Maggie is there already? What time is it?

            “Hello?”

            “Maggie?” I ask. I can’t afford to lose her. “It’s Margaret Evanston.”

            “Margaret?” she repeats. “Where are you? Are you alright?”

            I almost laugh. “I’m fine.” Though that statement is relative. “I need to speak with someone. Uh…Todd Anderson, or Charlie Dalton. Any of those boys, please.”

            “One moment.” I’m put on hold without another word. I’m glad she didn’t ask me anymore questions. I’m sure she’ll find out soon enough. It’s hard to have a secret at Welton.

            I twirl the phone cord around my wrist as I wait for her to track somebody down. My insides are turning and I honestly feel sick. I tighten my free hand around my stomach.

            The phone clicks and I’m connected with somebody. “Margo? It’s Todd.”

            “Todd,” I repeat, taking a deep breath. My brain has stopped working.

            “W-What’s w-wrong?”

            My heart drops at the sound of his stutter. “I, I don’t,” I stop. Now I’m stuttering. We’re a mess. We’re all a mess.

            “Margo?” he asks after a quiet moment that I quickly realize I’m supposed to fill.

            “You have to find the others. You should be here.” Everything is fuzzy. None of this is right.

            “ _Please insert additional money for another five minutes,”_ the voice from the payphone says calmly. My heart is pounding. I don’t have any additional money.

            “Where are you?” Todd says quickly.

            “St. Mary’s. Fourth floor. Find someone to bring you. Please.” I add, just before the phone clicks and we’re disconnected.

            I slam the phone down. My heart is pounding and I force myself to take a deep breath. I can’t focus on myself. I have to focus on Neil.

            I head back to the elevator and ride it alone until I hit the fourth floor.

            “Margaret!” Father calls to me when I round the corner. I don’t know why he’s calling for me, or why he’s waving his hand towards me. Where else does he think I’m going? But I quicken my pace anyway, and arrive in front of him in ten seconds instead of twenty. “Did you see your mother on your way up?”

            “No. Should I have?” I ask. Is this why he called me over?

            He shakes his head. “You must have just missed them.” He pauses and glances over at the door. “Neil just got back.”

            “Is he alright?” I ask, looking up at him anxiously.

            Father shrugs. “They won’t know until the tests come back. Tom is in there, trying to get Neil to talk, but…”

            Mr. Perry comes out of the room just then and closes the door behind him. He’s shaking his head, and I hope Neil yelled at him. This is his fault. I can’t even look at him.

            “Margaret, we want you to try and talk with him,” Mr. Perry tells me.

            I look up at him, surprised. Why am I the one who has to get Neil talking?

            “He still won’t talk?” I ask, a bit unnecessarily. God, I can be so stupid sometimes.

            “Not to us, nor the doctors,” he admits, and he looks like he hates it. Good.

            Father puts a hand on my shoulder. “You think you can get him talking?” he asks, trying to sound lighthearted, but I imagine it’s hard.

            I shrug. “I can try.”

            Mr. Perry steps away from the door and I enter the room, closing the door quietly behind me. I should have told them to go to the lounge or something. They’re going to be outside the room, surely listening in to see if he says something.

            I take in the room. It’s mostly empty. There’s a door to the right of me that’s probably the bathroom; a small closet across from the bed, and two chairs, one on each side of the bed.

            Neil’s facing away from me, looking out the small window next to the bed. I can see some sort of IV hooked up to the back of his hand.

            I swallow hard and take a step into the room. It feels like I’m moving through glue. Everything feels off. “Hi,” I say softly.

            Neil glances over at me and my heart drops. He has bags under his eyes and that same defeated look on his face.

            I move forward and take a seat in the chair beside his bed. I take a moment getting situated, and I can see from the corner of my eye that I have his full attention. How many days ago was it that we were in a similar situation?

            “I was told you weren’t talking,” I confess, looking up at him. I try to give him a smile. “Apparently everyone thinks I’m the only one you’ll talk to.” I take a deep breath. I have no idea what I’m doing here.

            Neil doesn’t respond, though to be fair, I’m not exactly expecting him to.

            “I,” I stop. My voice sounds thick and my throat feels like it’s tightening, but I refuse to cry here. “I was so wrapped up in myself and my feelings that I, I had no idea you were hurting as badly as you were, and I’m so sorry.” I tell him. I bite my lip and try to think of something else to say. “I’m sorry,” I repeat for a lack of anything better to say.

            “I probably didn’t help as much as I thought I did, that night your dad came to the school. I thought things would just automatically get better, but I was stupid to think that.” I pause, and the next sentence is out of my mouth before I can filter it. “And I probably shouldn’t have kissed you.”

            His eyes widen with shock and I feel like an idiot for mentioning it. “I remember kissing you and I lied about it. When Charlie found out, he was so mad at me…I’ve never seen him that way before. I think he thought if I admitted what I did, it would open my eyes to some hidden feelings I had for you, but I already knew I had feelings for you.”

            His mouth opens, and for a moment, I think he’s going to speak, but remains silent. I look down at the floor and I continue. “I’ve, I’ve loved you for a long time, Neil,” I confess. “Since we became friends again, I think. I just, I just hated my parents so much for forcing us together that I couldn’t tell you; not the night you told me how you felt, not that night I kissed you…” I take another deep breath. I want to look at him, but I can’t. “I was terrified when I found out what happened to you, because,” I stop. My throat is tightening more and my eyes are beginning to water, and if I keep talking, I’m going to cry. I don’t want to cry.

            “Don’t do this.”

            I look up quickly at the sound of his voice. He’s said something, but that’s not what I thought he’d say.

            “Neil, I’m not doing anything. I planned to tell you after the play, but you left so quickly that I couldn’t.”

            He sighs, but not in anger or frustration; he still sounds defeated. My heart is pounding so hard against my ribs that it hurts.

            His eyes flicker up to mine for a second before he looks away again. “I want you to go,” he tells me quietly.

            It feels like all the air has been knocked out of my lungs. He can’t mean that. I told him what he wanted; I finally told him the truth. I sniffle once and wait for him to say something else, anything else, but he doesn’t.

            Finally, I stand up, my legs shaking. “Okay,” I whisper. “But I’m not leaving this hospital until I’m forced to.”

            I slip out of the room. Both sets of parents are waiting for me, and Mrs. Perry rushes towards me.

            “What happened?” she asks desperately. _Just like her son_ , I think bitterly to myself. “Did he say anything?”

            I shake my head. I feel guilty lying to her, but what he said doesn’t mean anything to her.

            She leans in closer to me, taking my arm in her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Are you alright?”

            I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. Behind Mrs. Perry, I can see mother cringe and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s hard seeing him like that,” I tell Mrs. Perry honestly.

            I glance up at father. “Can I go sit down for a moment in the waiting room?”

            “Of course, dear,” mother answers instead. I try to smile, nod, and leave the four of them alone.

            I head for the waiting area. I’ll be glad to be away from them for a couple minutes.

            I sit on one of the dark blue, plastic chairs. I rest my elbows on my knees and take a couple deep breaths. Neil didn’t seem mad, so that’s good, I guess.

            I feel myself start to blush. I never should have said anything. I should have waited. I should have kept my mouth shut. I didn’t help anything. I bite the knuckle of my left pointer finger. How stupid I am. Why did I think I could help?

            “Margo?”

            I glance around the area and spot the boys hurrying towards me. I forgot I called Todd. I shouldn’t have called him. It’s not going to help. They look a mess. I wonder what time it is. I wonder how many of them Todd had to wake up to get here. The group seems smaller than usual, but I quickly realize it’s because both Neil and Cameron are missing from it.

            I stand as they come up to me. They’re all talking at once, but a voice from behind them catches my attention the most.

            “What happened?” Captain asks. I’m surprised he’s here, but then again, who else could Todd have gone to?

            “It,” I take a deep breath and pray my voice won’t crack. “It’s Neil. Mr. Perry found him in their yard this morning,” I pause. “He was there all night. They didn’t say it, but I think he was trying to,” my voice cracks and I cringe.

            “What,” one of them starts, but doesn’t (can’t?) finish.

            “I don’t,” I stop and clear my throat. “He isn’t talking to anyone,” I lie. “They just brought him back from testing.”

            Captain steps forward and grabs my shoulders. “The important thing is that he didn’t do anything rash and-”

            “Margaret!”

            I jump and turn around. Mr. Perry is on his way down the hallway. Why is he here? Hasn’t he done enough?

            “You!” Mr. Perry shouts, coming forward even quicker. His face is turning red, with what I can easily tell is anger. “I hold you personally responsible for this!” He tells Captain.

            “He didn’t do anything,” I say, but my voice comes out funny, and it sounds like I’m whining.

            Mr. Perry grabs my arm. His touch disgusts me. He can’t be that blind. He has to know he’s at fault. “You stay the hell away from my son,” he tells Captain. He starts to lead me away. “Come on boys,” Mr. Perry adds over his shoulder.

            I turn the best I can. “Mr. Keating!” I call to him.

            “It’s alright Margaret.” He turns and heads back to the elevator.

            Mr. Perry’s grip on my arm tightens as he leads me back to my parents. I realize it’s pointless to struggle. I close my eyes against the tears that threaten to fall.

            This isn’t what I wanted at all.


	16. Chapter 16

            Mother is upset when she sees the boys behind us, but she doesn’t say anything as Mr. Perry places all the blame on Captain. My stomach churns, and my hot chocolate is close to making a reappearance.

            Mrs. Perry asks the boys if one of them would like to talk to Neil. We all turn in unison to Todd, who blushes brightly. He tries to object, but is stuttering too heavily. Charlie pushes him into the room as Mr. Perry rolls his eyes.

            I turn away at the sight. Mr. Perry should be grateful Neil has friends at all. My stomach churns again and I excuse myself.

            I hurry to the bathroom and throw up my drink quickly. I sit on the floor, and my mind flashes to what my mother would say if she saw me. She’d be disgusted.

            I don’t want to leave here, but after five minutes, I realize I have to. I force myself off the floor and fix my clothes and hair in the mirror. I run the water cold and splash it on my face. I don’t want to go back out there, but I open the door anyway and head back towards Neil’s room.

            The hallway is surprisingly empty when I reach it. I retrace my steps and finally spot the boys in the waiting area.

            “How did it go?” I ask Todd as I join them. I sit beside Pitts near the aisle.

            Todd shrugs. “H-He told me not to tell his parents that he said anything. He doesn’t want to talk to them.”

            “Can you blame him?” Knox asks, shaking his head. Meeks and Pitts mumble in agreement.

            We sit in silence for a minute. I don’t really feel like talking, but I can’t help but ask, “Where’s Charlie?” when it hits me he’s not in the room.

            “Talking to Neil,” Meeks says. “His parents think that he’ll talk to Charlie, since he didn’t anyone else.” He shrugs.

            The boys continue talking, but I tune them out. I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. I feel Pitts shift beside me. I assume he’s glanced down at me before looking away again, but then again, maybe he’s just shifting in his chair.

            I wrap my arms around my middle. I’m feeling sick again and I would like to not throw up again.

            “How’d it go?” I hear Knox ask. I open one eye and spot Charlie.

            He shrugs and I close my eye again. “Same as Todd, I guess. Mrs. Perry gave me some money for us to get lunch downstairs.”

            They stand, though I hear grumbles about how not hungry they are. I still don’t know what time it is.

            “Are you coming?”

            I open my eyes. They’re all in the doorway. I can’t place or explain this sudden loneliness I feel looking at them. My eyes water without warning and I shake my head. “I ate earlier,” I lie.

            They leave and I rub the heels of my hands into my eyes. The feeling of loneliness becomes more of an empty feeling and I feel like I can’t breathe. It feels as though my throat is closing. I bite my lip and rub my heels in harder. I won’t cry. I can’t. It’s not fair.

            I stand and leave the waiting area. I head to Neil’s room. I don’t know where my parents, or the Perry’s, have gone. Maybe they’re in the cafeteria too.

            I stare at the wooden door that separates me from Neil. I want to knock it down. I want to rip it off its hinges. I don’t want to be separated from him.

            But I can’t go in. He hasn’t told me I can. I-

            “You can go in.”

            I jump and whirl around.

            “Stop smirking,” I snap at Charlie, sounding harsher than I mean to.

            “He probably wants to see you,” he says, ignoring my comment as he continues to smirk. I can’t look at him. I turn back to the door. My insides are twisting and I feel sick again. I want to see him. I would love to see him.

            “Margo?”

            “I can’t,” I say softly to the door.

            Charlie steps up beside me. “Why?

            I shake my head, and turn away from the door. “I just can’t.” I tell him. “Let’s go down to the cafeteria.”

            “What happened?” he demands, watching me intensely. How can he read me so easily? How can I be so easily read?

            “Nothing happened,” I say. “Why do you think something happened?”

            “Don’t bullshit me,” he says sharply. “What happened?”

            Anger flares up into my chest and I clench my hands into fists. “Don’t talk to me like that, Dalton.”

            “Then don’t make me, Margaret.”

            My hands are shaking and I’m surprised at how much I want to hit him. I want to hit him again and again until he’s the one needing a room here. I turn away from him. Hitting him wouldn’t help me. My parents would just get mad and I’d get in trouble. Charlie would probably wear whatever bruises I gave him as a medal.

            I hate him.

            “Hey,” he touches my elbow and I jerk away from him. If he touches me again, I might actually hit him. He raises his eyebrows once, quickly. “Talk to me.”

            I roll my eyes. “The last time I tried talking to someone, I,” I stop and glance over at the door again. Charlie takes a step towards me and I don’t move away when he does so. He’s watching me, waiting for me to continue, and I’m wishing I hadn’t opened my mouth. I take a shaky breath. “He asked me to leave,” I confess a moment later.

            “What?” Charlie says quickly.

            “Neil asked me to leave,” I repeat. It’s harder to say it the second time, and I pray I won’t have to say it a third time.

            “Why?”

            “Because,” my voice cracks and I clear my throat quickly. My eyes start stinging and I hate myself for it. Charlie probably won’t want to talk to me for a long while after all this. “Because I’m an asshole.”

            Now he just looks confused. He tilts his head slightly to one side and stares at me for a moment. “You’re not an asshole,” he says. “But I’m still shaky on what happened.”

            I sigh. “I told him I loved him and he asked me to leave.” A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. It sounds wild and I think it startles Charlie as much as it startles me. “I don’t think he believed me.” I add. “You were right. I should have told him before the play.” A thought hits me hard and I wrap my arms around myself. My eyes water and I close them before any tears can fall. “If I had told him sooner, maybe-” my voice cracks again.

            “Don’t,” Charlie tells me sharply. “This isn’t your fault.”

            “I hurt him after I kissed him.”

            “But you helped him after.”

            “I killed him,” I say over him. “He’s not dead, but I’ve as good have.”

            He laughs, but it sounds hollow and I can’t figure out why he’d fake it. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he says. I remember a past conversation similar to this one and I almost smile. “You know whose fault this is,” he adds, glancing over his shoulder, down the still empty hallway.

            “Of course I do. Don’t you think I remember how Neil looked when his father told him to quit the play?”

            “Or the way he dragged Neil away after his performance?”

            I sigh and tug at my ponytail. “I’ve never wanted to yell at someone more than I have Mr. Perry this whole day. And then he has the nerve to blame Mr. Keating? It’s unbelievable.”

            Charlie nods. We stand there silently for a couple minutes. A couple nurses go past us, heading into other rooms. I still have no idea where my parents or the Perry’s are.

            “I’m still an asshole.” I finally say.

            He laughs, only this time it sounds genuine. “I always knew that.”

            I glare at him out of the corner of my eyes. “Do you want to go down to the cafeteria? I’m kind of thirsty.” I also don’t feel like I’m going to be sick, but I don’t want to push my luck.

            “Alright.”

            We head for the elevator and find the others at a large, round table in the corner of the cafeteria. They’re just sitting and eating, no goofing off at all. I’m not entirely sure if it’s because we’re in a hospital or if it’s why we’re in a hospital.

            I grab a drink and Charlie grabs a sandwich before we take seats at the table. No one talks much, and I’m grateful. I feel like I’ve done enough talking for a while.

            Charlie eats half of his sandwich before tearing the other half into pieces. Pitts is breaking his chips into small pieces; Knox stirs his drink with his straw. No talking. No eating. I get goosebumps up my arms that I try to rub away. I’ve never seen them like this. It’s scaring me.

            When everyone is done not finishing their food, or their drinks, or in Pitts case crashing to chips to a fine powder, we throw away our trash and head back upstairs. Silently. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and my throat is dry, from all that drink I didn’t have. I don’t want to talk anymore. I’m not going to. I don’t care. All of this is feeling like too much. I can’t-

            We pass a waiting room and I hear mother call “Margaret!” much too loudly for a hospital. But who in their right mind here would tell an Evanston how to act?

            I reach her and look at her expectantly. I’m not going to say a word.

            “Your father and Mr. Perry are going to take you and the others back to school. None of you should miss classes tomorrow.”

            Someone behind me starts to say something, and without looking I don’t know, but it sounds like Knox, or Todd. I don’t say anything as they trail off. I nod. Father stands and everybody heads for the garage, and as the car containing myself, Father, Pitts, and Meeks leaves the parking garage five minutes later, I realize I didn’t get to say goodbye to Neil. Then again, how could I?

            No one says anything on the way home. Father tries to start small talk with the boys, but when neither of them seems into it, he drops the conversation, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to hear talk. I…

            I don’t know what I want.

            We arrive back at school safe and sound. I give father a wave over my shoulder as we enter the building. The other students are up and about, maybe heading to or from the dining hall. Some call out to us; they ask questions that none of us answer with any certainty. Cameron finds us just as we reach our floor. He looks pissed, and I come to the conclusion it’s because no one told him what was going on.

            He starts asking questions, but doesn’t wait for answers. Apparently there was an assembly this morning about what happened. No one asks for details. I wonder if Nolan told the students the truth, or if it was a bunch of vague statements that went over everybody’s heads.

            “Not here,” Charlie finally snaps at Cameron. His dislike for Cameron is really coming through.

            Cameron stops talking, and looks at Charlie expectantly. Charlie glances back at us, locks eyes with someone, and shrugs once. “We’ll meet up later.”

            “Why?” Cameron demands. I want to be in my room, or literally anywhere else that isn’t here.

            “Because if they overhear us, we’ll be toast,” Charlie tells him sharply. Cameron visibly pales, and for a moment I hope he passes out. But he doesn’t.

            “Where?”

            “The biology classroom; in the alcove.”

            Someone starts to say something behind me, but stops again. I glance around, but can’t figure out which one it was.

            “In an hour,” Charlie adds, before he pushes past Cameron and heads down the hall to his room. The others follow and I slip into my room without a word.

            I lock my door and head for the bathroom. I need a shower and a change of clothes.


	17. Chapter 17

            I hear knocking when I leave my bathroom and enter my room fifty minutes later. My shower started as hot as it would go and when it started to cool off, I decided I should get out and get ready. I don’t really want to go to the meeting. I don’t want to be around anyone. I just want to be alone.

            There’s another round of knocking. I pull my brush through my hair quickly before opening the door. Todd is standing there, and it’s still strange, despite our friendship, to see him at my door.

            “Thanks,” he says quickly. I’m not entirely sure what he’s thanking me for, but I nod anyway.

            We stand there in silence for only a couple seconds before Todd says we should get going. I close the door behind me and follow him to the classroom. I’m glad it’s Todd I’m with. I still don’t want to talk and it’s easy with him.

            We slip into the biology room quickly, and make for the alcove. One quick glance and I see the only ones missing are Charlie and Cameron.

            I sit down on some boxes and we wait almost fifteen minutes for Charlie to finally show up.

            “Where’s Cameron?” Meeks asks.

            Charlie shrugs as he plops himself down on the box next to me. He pulls out his cigarettes and lights one, passes it to Knox, and lights another one.

            “Is he on his way?” Pitts questions.

            Again, Charlie shrugs. I turn to him. He looks angry. “I don’t know where he is. He never came back to the room.”

            Knox starts to cough, and passes his cigarette to Meeks. “You serious?”

            Charlie nods, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “That’s it. We’re all fried.”

            “How do you mean?” Pitts asks. The room is quickly filling with smoke and I want to leave. I could leave right now. Would any of them follow me?

            I shake my head quickly. I don’t want to think about that. One of them would come after me, I’m sure. Charlie probably, or Pitts.

            “The club, Pittsie. Think about it: the board of directors, the trustees and Mr. Nolan. Do you think for one moment they’re going to let this thing just blow over? Schools go down because of things like this. They need a scapegoat.”

            Because of things like what? Neil? Is that what Charlie means? Or Captain? I have too many questions. I would understand if Neil had actually…but he didn’t. He’s still…

            I don’t know what’s going on anymore. It’s probably for the best that I’ve decided to stop talking; I would only be a mess of questions right now.

            The door opens. Pitts drops the cigarette he’s holding and stomps it out while the others wave their hands, trying to get the smoke to disappear. Cameron comes around the corner, and for a moment, I’m relieved he’s here.

            “What’s going on, guys?” he asks. It sounds like he’s trying to be calm, but his voice is shaking. I glance around me. Charlie is still angry, as is Knox. Meeks and Pitts looks merely frustrated, and Todd…I can’t pinpoint how he looks.  

            “You finked, didn’t you, Cameron?” Charlie demands. He stands and tosses his cigarette away.

            Charlie takes a step towards Cameron and he takes a step back. “Finked?” he asks, like he’s never heard the word before. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

            “You told Nolan everything about the club is what I’m talking about.”

            The others are standing up around me, and I do the same. The air is tense and I glance around again. I really shouldn’t be here. I should be anywhere _but_ here.

            Cameron takes a step forward, and it’s surprising because it’s like he’s standing up to Charlie. “Look, in case you hadn’t heard, Dalton, there’s something called an honor code at this school, all right?” He sighs. “If a teacher asks you a question, you tell the truth, or you’re expelled.”

            “You little,” Charlie lunges for him, but Knox grabs him around the middle and Meeks grabs his arms and Charlie is forced to remain where he’s standing.

            “He’s a rat!” Charlie shouts as he struggles against the two of them. I back away, standing far to the right of them. “He’s in it up to his eyes, so he ratted to save himself!”

            “Don’t touch him, Charlie. You do and you’re out,” Knox warns, still holding onto him.

            “I’m out anyway!”

            “You don’t know that, not yet.”

            Would it be so bad to be kicked out of here, really? I’m sure we could keep in contact, and maybe I’d still be forced to see Neil all the time because of our parents.

            “They’re not after us. We’re the victims. Us and Neil.”

            I think I missed part of what Cameron was saying.

            “Who are they after?” Charlie asks. Knox and Meeks drop their hands in shock. I think they already know what’s going on.

            “Mr. Keating, of course, the _Captain_ himself. I mean, you guys didn’t really think he could avoid responsibility, did you?”

            “Mr. Keating responsible for Neil?”

            “Neil didn’t even do anything,” Meeks interrupts quietly. Would this be worse if he had?

            “Is that what they’re saying?” Charlie asks.

            “Well, who else do you think, dumbass?” Cameron shouts. “The administration? Mr. Perry? Mr. Keating put us up to all this crap, didn’t he? If it wasn’t for Mr. Keating, Neil wouldn’t be in the hospital right now, he’d be in his room studying his chemistry and dreaming of being called doctor!”

             “That’s not true, Cameron, and you know that! He didn’t put us up to anything. Neil loves acting!” Hearing Todd shout is strange, but Cameron deserves it.

            “Believe what you want, but I say let Keating fry! I mean, why ruin our lives?”

            Cameron stands there, like he’s actually waiting for us to answer him. I feel like hitting him. I hate him. This isn’t like when I say I hate Charlie. I actually, truly hate Cameron.

            I turn and share looks with the others. Charlie turns too, followed by Knox and Meeks. I turn back to Cameron, hell bent on breaking my silence and giving him a piece of my mind, but I see Charlie tense and I see it happen before it does. Charlie starts forward, and I jump in front of him without a thought. I manage to miss his fist, and luckily his fist misses Cameron, but his body bumps into mine with enough force to knock me on my butt in between the two of them. Charlie stops and looks down at me, and I’m silently begging him not to do anything, and maybe it works, or maybe it’s because Cameron hightails it out of the room, but nothing else happens. Charlie looks pissed, and I’m honestly not certain if he’s mad at me or not.

            Knox offers me his hand and he pulls me to my feet. “Are you okay?” he asks. I nod.

            I look back at Charlie. He glances at me, and thankfully he looks less pissed, which I take as a good sign. But I leave the room quickly anyway. My tailbone is sore and I just need to leave.

            Someone calls after me as I go, but I jog back to the dorms and enter my room. I plan on staying there for the rest of the night, but less than an hour later I hear someone down the hallway shout, “Gerard Pitts!” My stomach sinks and I head to the door, leaning my ear against it, listening for movement. After a couple minutes, nothing happens, and his name is called again, but louder. I hear a door close and open my own, looking out to see what’s going on.

            I’m not the only one, but I’m the only one Nolan turns to. “Ms. Evanston, you will have your turn. Now return to your studies.”

            My face reddens as Pitts passes me. What does he mean I’ll have my turn?

            Then it dawns on me. It’s because of Cameron. We’re going to have to either agree with what he’s claimed or-

            There is no _or_. We have to agree with it. The school board won’t take anything less.

            My chest tightens and I sit on the edge of my bed, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. I stay there until, about fifteen minutes later I hear footsteps and Meeks is called. After him is Knox, then Charlie. I wonder what they’re saying.

            Todd is called and I pray they’ve forgotten about me. Maybe Cameron forgot to mention me. If I’m not called, that’s not my fault.

            Almost thirty minutes later, just as I’m starting to relax in the belief I won’t be called, I hear my name called. My heart starts pounding as I move for the door and open it. Todd passes me, but doesn’t look at me.

            I follow Nolan to his office. He opens the door for me and when I step inside, my parents turn.

            My heart starts pounding faster as I take slow steps for the empty chair beside mother. She’s crying, and she reaches for my hand when I sit. Father doesn’t even look that angry. I…I’m confused.

            Nolan crosses the room and sits down behind his desk. He grabs a piece of paper, the only thing that looks out of place, and looks it over. “Ms. Evanston, I think we’ve put together what’s happened here. You do admit to being part of this Dead Poets Society?”

            I swallow hard and start to nod. Mother squeezes my hand and I answer, “Yes sir,” with my head lowered.

            Nolan holds out the paper. “This is a detailed description of what occurred at your meetings. It describes how your teacher, Mr. Keating, encouraged you to organize this club and use it as a source of inspiration for reckless and self-indulgent behavior. It describes how Mr. Keating, both in and out of the classroom, encouraged Neil Perry to follow his obsession with acting when he knew it was against his parents’ wishes. It was Mr. Keating’s blatant abuse of his position as teacher that led directly to what happened with Neil.”

            My face is burning, and I let go of mothers’ hand. I wrap my arms around myself tightly. I can’t breathe. None of this is right.

            The paper is set down on the desk in front of me.

            “Read over the paper carefully, Margaret.”

            I lift my eyes enough to skim over the paper, and I feel like I’m going to be sick when I see six names, six signatures, at the bottom of the paper.

            “Neil, he,” I stop when my voice cracks. I haven’t spoken in only a couple of hours, but it hurts my throat. “He’s going to be alright?”

            “Of course, Margaret,” mother says gently. “No one is mad at Neil. What happened isn’t his fault.”

            “Sign the paper, Margaret,” father adds.

            “What’s going to happen?” I ask, voice shaking. “After?”

            Father sighs, but mother puts her hand on top of his. “She’s frightened,” she tells both father and Nolan, and then she turns back to me. “They’ll hire a new teacher, one who won’t abuse his power.”

            “But Mr. Keating,” I start.

            “He won’t hurt you anymore,” father interrupts, obviously frustrated.  Out of the two of my parents, I would have expected it to be the other way around. “Now sign the paper.” He holds out a pen to me. Mr. Keating won’t help us anymore, that’s what he should have said.

            The others have signed it. Fighting it is useless.

            I take the pen and sign my name slowly across the bottom of the page. Father takes the pen from me the moment I’m finished, Nolan takes the paper, and everybody stands.

            “I’m glad we could get this taken care of quickly,” Nolan tells father as they shake hands. “Thank you for coming today. I know the drive is long.”

            “Anything to help,” father responds. Mother nods once when Nolan glances at her. I quietly lead them to the entrance and say my goodbyes.

            I watch the car fade from sight and go back to my room. Father instructed me to spend the night studying, to make up for the time lost while we were at the hospital, but I get into bed and plan on spending the rest of the day in bed.

            It’s easier to hate myself if I’m not thinking about anything else.


	18. Chapter 18

I wake up in the morning and debate getting up. I could stay here forever, I think. My pieces are scattered, out of reach, gone. I close my eyes and pull myself together enough to get out of bed.

            I move slowly, and miss breakfast, but I don’t really care. After everything that happened over the last couple days, everything that happened yesterday, I’m not ready to see anyone.

            We never should have signed that paper.

            When I sit down in Chemistry, only a minute before the bell rings, Charlie turns to me and says, “Thought you weren’t coming.” I think he’s trying to lighten the mood, because they all look terrible. Todd, unsurprisingly, looks the worst, like any minute he’s about to cry.

            I don’t answer Charlie, and I stop looking at them. I was right with my thinking last night. It’s easier to be alone.

            Latin and Trig go by too quickly, and suddenly we’re forcing ourselves into the English classroom. It feels much too empty, much too…proper, with the knowledge that Captain won’t be walking through the door, to start reciting poetry, or a monologue. He won’t-

            The door opens, and despite myself, I turn quickly to see whose entering. The boys around me stand when Nolan enters, but I remain sitting. Before, I had a healthy fear and respect for Nolan, and now I just feel sick. He needed a scapegoat, and he got one.

            “Sit,” he says sharply, and the class is quick to respond. “I’ll be teaching this class through exams. We’ll find a permanent English teacher during the break. Who will tell me where you are in the Pritchard textbook?”

            He glances around the room, but no one raises their hand.

            “Mr. Anderson?” Nolan asks, and I feel my hand twitch. Out of all people…

            Todd starts stuttering, and his voice is weak, and Nolan is having none of that. I hate Nolan, and if I had the guts, I’d just leave.

            “Kindly inform me, Mr. Cameron.”

            I rub my temples when Cameron starts talking. I want to hit him. I should have let Charlie hit him yesterday.

            I sneak a peek over at Charlie, but he’s not paying any attention. His book isn’t even open.

            Okay, I’m glad I didn’t let Charlie hit Cameron. But I still want _someone_ to hit him.

            “All right, then, we’ll start over. What is poetry?” He’s not-

            There’s a knock on the door, and the class turns. My stomach drops when I see Captain enter slowly.

            “Excuse me. I came for my personals. Should I come back after class?” he asks softly.

            I turn away and face the front. I blink once, and the tears start falling freely, and I do nothing to stop them. I don’t care who sees.

            “Get them now, Mr. Keating,” Nolan says sharply before turning to the rest of us. Captain moves along the back wall, and then begins to follow the far left wall down the aisle. I try not to watch, but I can’t help it. “Gentlemen-” I roll my eyes, and catch Captain look back at me. It’s quick, but I swear a see a hint of concern on his face. Maybe it’s because I’m still crying, struggling not to sob or whimper.

            I almost think that maybe that’s something he wanted; to see one of us get what we had coming. But I can’t believe it. That’s not who Captain is.

            Besides, I’m almost certain he remembers the scene in the hospital.

            “Turn to page 21 of the introduction. Mr. Cameron, read aloud the excellent essay by Dr. Pritchard on ‘Understanding Poetry.’”

            It’s almost comical, the scene that follows. Charlie apparently feels the same way, because he snorts, probably louder he should.

            “That page has been ripped out, sir,” Cameron tells him.

            “Borrow somebody else’s book.”

            “They’re all ripped out, sir.”

            “What do you mean, they’re all ripped out?” Nolan demands. I steal another glance at Captain, but he’s just gathering his things. I feel so guilty. I feel so sick.

            “Never mind.” Nolan takes his own book over to Cameron and drops it down. “Read!”

            Cameron starts the essay. I close my book, and I’m not the only one. We don’t have the pages, what’s the point in having our books open?

            I look up and watch Nolan. He’s watching the desk as he listens to Cameron read. I want him to look up and see us, to truly see us. Miserable. Maybe if he sees me crying…who am I kidding? Nolan doesn’t care. No one does, except-

            Captain begins to leave the room again. I watch as he passes Todd’s desk. He looks down quickly at Todd as he goes, but I don’t know if Todd sees it. I haven’t seen his head move the entire class, with the exception of when Nolan asked him that question.

            Captain meets my eye again. I’m still crying. I can’t stop. I’ll never stop. I bite my lips together. I want to say something, anything. I want him to say it’s okay, that he forgives us, that he never blamed us, us or Neil.

            “Mr. Keating!” Todd shouts, making the entire class jump as he rises to his feet. I almost laugh; out of all of us, _Todd_ is the one with the guts to speak. “They made everyone sign it,” he continues quickly. I could kiss Todd for speaking up.

            “Quiet, Mr. Anderson!” Nolan shouts. He rises from his chair quickly.

            “You gotta believe me,” Todd begs. “It’s true.”

            Nola has reached Todd, but it’s Captain who speaks. “I do believe you, Todd.”

            It’s a relief so heavy that it knocks the breath out of my lungs. He understands. He, he surely wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it, right?

            “Sit down Mr. Anderson!” Nolan shouts. Todd sinks back into his seat, his face red. He’s crying too. “One more outburst from you, or anyone else, and you’re out of this school!” Nolan turns back to Captain. “Leave, Mr. Keating.”

            Captain does nothing. I steal a quick glance around the room. Some of the boys, like Cameron, aren’t watching this debacle. How can they not? Did they learn, experience, _feel_ anything this semester?

            “I said leave, Mr. Keating.”

            I turn back in time to see Captain heading slowly for the door. He grabs the handle, and from behind me I hear, “O Captain, my Captain!”

            I spin in my seat and see Todd on his desk. Nolan is yelling at him to get down. Everybody is watching now. My heart is pounding. Todd, he, he can’t.

            But he is.

            “This is your final warning, Mr. Anderson!”

            A moment later, Knox climbs onto his desk, repeating after Todd. Nola begins to shout louder. Pitts climbs onto his desk in unison with Charlie. Meeks is up next. Then others, whom I never would have expected, rise as well. Daniel Hilters, Robert Henry, Robert Nells, George Hopkins.

            I take a deep breath and pull myself onto my own desk. I turn to Captain and wrap my arms tightly around myself.

            Nolan is still shouting at us, but no one says anything. Captain’s still right; things still look different from up here. A year ago I might not have believed it.

            Captain stands there for another moment, taking us in, before a smile begins to cross his face.

            “Thank you,” he says before he leaves the room.

            Nolan takes a break from yelling. No one moves. No one says anything. Captain is gone, and I don’t know if we fixed what we broke, or not. I don’t feel better. Maybe I never will.

            “All of you who remained sitting may leave.” Nolan says, sounding eerily calm for someone who has just spent the last twenty minutes or so shouting. “The rest of you, remain where you are, but face front.”

            I turn around slowly, trying to keep my balance. I’m starting to feel dizzy being up here, like any minute I’m going to fall.

            Nolan doesn’t say anything. He takes a long look around the room. I glance over at Charlie. He catches my eye and shrugs. Are we actually going to be expelled? If so, I should have let Charlie punch Cameron.

            Nolan takes a deep breath before sitting at the front desk. “You want to stand on your desks?” He opens his book lazily, as if he has no other place to be. “We’ll stay here through lunch.”

            This doesn’t seem like much of a punishment, besides the fact I’m still dizzy.

            The bell rings for lunch, and I try to count the seconds, but it makes time seem slower, so I try not thinking about anything other than not falling.

            I think about Neil. I wonder what he’s doing. I wonder how mad he’s going to be once he learns about Captain. Would this stunt make up for it?

            I don’t think it will.

 

When the bell rings eighty minutes later, Nolan looks up from his book and glances around the room. “What do you have to say for yourselves?” he demands.

            He rises from his chair and starts walking around the room. If he bumps my desk, I’m going down. Maybe I won’t try to save myself; I’ll just go straight down and take the injuries. “I said one more outburst, from any of you, and you’re gone. Did you think I was bluffing?”

            A couple of the boys start squirming. They apparently didn’t think of our stunt as an outburst.

            I look around the room as Nolan continues his route. An idea pops into my head quickly, and I have to speak before I lose it.

             “You can’t expel all of us,” I say softly.

            The room turns to me. Nolan steps forward quickly. “What did you say to me, Ms. Evanston?” he demands. His face is red, and I know it’s because of me.

            “You can’t expel all of us,” I repeat, but I can’t force my voice to get louder.

            “How dare you-”

            “How would you explain it to their fathers?” I interrupt. I hear someone gasp. I don’t know who, because I refuse to take my eyes off Nolan. His face grows redder, and is almost on the border of purple. No one moves, we just wait.

            Nolan looks furious, and I know it’s because he knows I’m right. The other boys, they didn’t do anything wrong. “You are all on academic probation, and your parents will be notified. One step out of line and you’re gone! No warnings, no excuses. Now get out of my sight!”

            The boys jump off their desks quickly, but I don’t move. Nolan notices and looks over. We lock eyes. I’m the last one on my desk.

            “Ms. Evanston, get to class,” Nolan says slowly. I don’t want to. I want to stay here until I pass out.

            “Margo!” Charlie says sharply. I look at him and he offers me his hand. I take it with a sigh and he helps me down. My legs feel wobbly, but I follow them silently to history.

            After history, I tell them I’m blowing off work and I go back to my room.

            I’m not alone ten minutes before Charlie and Knox come in together. Meeks comes in five minutes later, followed closely by Pitts. Todd arrives ten minutes after that, and we sit in silence. What are we even supposed to say to each other?

            Todd stands, and I think he’s about to leave, but instead he shuts the door. Apparently our Todd is quite the rule breaker today.

            “W-We had to, to sign it,” he says to the door.

            “No we didn’t,” Knox argues. Todd turns. His face is red, and he looks like he’s going to cry again.

            “There was no other way,” Meeks says, siding with Todd.

            “Being expelled would be better than this,” Charlie adds. I think he’s siding with Knox, but I’m not certain.

            “They would have forced us,” Pitts replies.

            They watch each other for a long minute or so before they turn to me.

            “Margo?” Pitts asks.

            I take a deep breath and try to focus, try to put everything that happened recently in order. It’s hard and it hurts my head. “Either way, we would have been wrong,” I finally say. There more, floating around in my head, but I can’t force the thoughts from my head to my mouth, so that’s as good as I’m going to get.

            “Fine,” Charlie says. “But we can’t talk about it anymore.”

            “I a-agree,” Todd replies quickly.

            “What?” I demand.

            “Are you serious?” Knox adds.

            Only Charlie and Todd look like they know what they’re talking about. Maybe they had a secret meeting before this meeting (is it even really a meeting? It’s not a Dead Poets’ meeting, that’s for sure) and planned this.

            “If we keep talking about it, we’ll keep going in circles,” Charlie says. “Think about it. We’ll keep trying to make ourselves feel better. We did a shitty thing, and we have to live with it.”

            “What if I don’t want to?” I ask without thinking. I get startled looks from everyone in the group and I realize what I’ve implied. “I didn’t mean that. I meant what if I don’t want to stop talking about it?”

            “We have to,” Todd says, surprisingly stutter free.

            “If we don’t, we’ll just torture ourselves,” Knox says slowly, looking at Charlie, who nods his approval.

            “That makes sense to me,” Meeks adds. I turn and glare at him, but he shrugs. “I’m not saying it’s right, I’m just saying I understand.”

            I sigh and lean back on my bed. I don’t like this. I don’t, but,

            “It makes sense to me too,” I confess.

            “Me too,” Pitts repeats.

            Charlie stands. “Then it’s agreed. After today we won’t talk about Keating, or the Society again.” He smirks. “Dead Poet’s honor,” he says solemnly, raising his right hand.

            We start laughing, almost in unison, because this whole day, this whole weekend has been crazy, and this really seems like the cherry on top.


	19. Chapter 19

“Have fun you two,” mother says as she slips on her coat. “We won’t be back until eight.” Mr. Dalton helps Mrs. Dalton into her coat, and Charlie and I say our goodbyes.

            Mother turns right as she’s walking out the door and adds, “Don’t get into any trouble,” before leaving.

            The door closes behind father and I roll my eyes at Charlie. “I wish she’d stop that,” I tell him. “She’s been doing it since school let out.”

            Charlie shrugs as he walks past. “Just don’t go mute again, and we’ll be fine.”

            “I-” I stop. I wouldn’t call it mute, not exactly. After Nolan and Captain…it was easier to be alone. The others kept their distance for a week or so before Charlie decided he had enough. He reminded me that if I kept up my silence while we were on vacation, either my parents or his would realize something was wrong, and something bad could happen. I didn’t ask what bad thing would happen, my mind ran away with plenty of my own crazy thoughts, but that night at dinner I asked someone to pass me something and it was easy to talk again after that.

            Now, though, seems like a good time to be quiet and not argue.

            “Which hill are we going to?” I ask as I tug my boots on.

            “Cooper’s,” Charlie answers immediately. I roll my eyes at my laces. I should have known. Charlie loves Cooper’s Hill. It has the most jumps and bumps. It’s not my favorite hill, but hopefully either later or tomorrow we’ll do February Slope. It’s mostly flat and not too steep. Even though my parents have taken me skiing every year since I learned to walk, I wasn’t thrilled about jumps. I was terrified I’d get hurt somehow.

            “Ready?” Charlie demands as he tugs on his coat.

            I nod and grab my gloves. I follow him in silence towards the slops. I’m struck by a familiar empty feeling, that a week or so ago I put a name to: Neil.

            I wish I could talk to him. I wish I could see him, but when I asked father, he said Neil was getting the help he needed, and he should be left alone for now. When I asked to call Mrs. Perry, mother told me not to make a nuisance of myself.

            I manage to shake myself out of these thoughts for a good portion of the day. I try to enjoy myself, I do. Charlie’s having a great time, so it seems, and I don’t want to put a damper on it. The day is almost over, and I’ve only thought about Neil about a hundred times…which is better than yesterday.

            “Next group!” The guy in charge of the ski lift shouts. Charlie and I step forward and catch the next lift. The bar closes around us and we start up the hill.

            I can’t help but wonder what Neil’s doing right now.

            I groan and bite my lip hard, and try to push him out of my head.

            “It’s not so bad,” Charlie says, looking over the bar to the ground. “If we fell, we’d only break our legs. We wouldn’t die.”

            “What a wonderful thought,” I tell him, making it clear I find it very _not_ wonderful. “How about you jump and find out?”

            “It would probably be better to jump now. At night, I’m sure the wolves would get you first.”

            My heart starts pounding and I turn to him, wide eyed. “What?” I demand. The mere thought is beginning to freak me out.

            “You know, wolves?” Charlie says as if I’m stupid and not scared. “They’re all over the area.”

            “How do you know that?”

            “I was chatting with some of the employees.”

            “Why?”

            He shrugs. We’re almost to the top of the hill, and I’m grateful. “I was waiting for you to get out of the bathroom.”

            I glance over the bar, suddenly terrified of it falling. “That’s not even what I was thinking about, so thanks Charlie.”

            We come to the top of the hill and get off the chair. “Well, it got your mind off it, so I helped.” He takes off down the hill, and for a moment I just follow him with my eyes. His logic isn’t logical.

            Though he’s right; it did take my mind off Neil, so I take off after him.

 

I fall near the end of the slope. I’m off to the side enough that I don’t even bother moving. I just lay there, staring up at the sky that seems to be turning grayer every minute. It’s going to storm tonight, I’m sure of it.

            Charlie comes to a stop next to me, and I’m glad he didn’t hit me, but still I don’t move, even after he offers me his hand.

            “Want to get dinner?” he asks.

            I look from his hand, to his face, back to the sky. “I’m not hungry,” I tell him honestly.

            “Are you going to lie there all night?” he asks sarcastically.

            I shrug. “Only if the wolves keep their distance,” I say calmly.

            Charlie sighs loudly, sounding frustrated. I look up at him. He’s pulling his gloves off quickly. “Alright, enough,” he snaps. I sit up quickly, startled that he’s suddenly so mad.

            “Charlie, I,” I stop when he starts walking back towards our condo. I take off my skis, grab my poles, and hurry after him.

            I only manage to reach him when he’s unlocking the door.

            “Hey, wait,” I tell him, grabbing his arm. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly.

            “Come on,” he says, opening the door and marching through the condo. I stop to take my boots off and follow behind him. I don’t know what he’s doing, or what he’s planning. I didn’t mean to annoy him. I’m trying, surely he knows that.

            I find him in the den, at the desk.

            “Charlie, I,” I pause when he picks up the phone. “What are you doing?” I ask. He ignores me and punches a couple numbers. I repeat my question, and he holds up a finger, signaling for me to wait. I glance at the clock behind me, above the door. It’s past seven o’clock. When did it get so late?

            “Hey Neil, it’s Charlie.”

            I look back him quickly. He’s talking to Neil.

            Charlie laughs and I step towards him. “No, I’m in Colorado with the Evanston’s.”

            I’m close enough that I can just hear a voice on the other end. I get chills and wrap my arms around myself. I want to talk to him, very badly.

            “Yeah, I,” Charlie stops when he glances over at me. The smirk that was forming is gone. “Stop that,” he tells me, but it only causes my arms to tighten. “No, not you,” he says into the phone. This conversation seems confusing. “Margo’s doing that arm thing she thinks no one notices.” My face burns. I actually thought no one noticed. How long have they known?

            Charlie glances over at me as he says, “Margo’s here, yeah. We just got back from skiing.” He rolls his eyes and looks away. “Well, I was skiing, she was sulking.”

            I hate him so much right now I want to hit him.

             “You want to talk to her?” he asks, and I reach for the phone without another word.

            “Give me the phone!” I demand as quietly as I can.

            Charlie laughs and holds the phone out to me. “All yours.”

            I glare at him as I take it and hold it up to my ear. “Neil?” I ask, suddenly worried Charlie’s pulling my leg.

            “Hi,” he says softly, and I’m relieved to hear his voice.

            I look over at Charlie, who’s already on his way out of the room. I take a deep breath. I suddenly don’t know what to say, so I say the first thing I can think of. “How are you?” What a stupid question. I feel myself blush at the stupidity.

            “I’m good,” he says. “I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse.”

            “That’s good,” I say. This isn’t going the way I thought it would. “I’m glad.”

            There’s a pause. I wonder if it feels as awkward to him as it does to me. I glance at the door again, but Charlie is gone. I don’t know what to say.

            But thankfully, it’s Neil who speaks first.

            “I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me,” he says.

            “What?” I ask quickly. “Why?” I wish I could see him. That would probably help my overwhelming sense of confusion.

            “I wanted to talk to you here, but you were already gone.” He pauses, and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to fill in the silence, so I wait. “I’m sorry,” he adds after almost a minute.

            “Neil, I don’t think I understand. Why are you sorry?”

            “I shouldn’t have asked you to leave.”

            My stomach flips as I grasp the phone tight. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “I would have done the same thing.”

            “It’s not. I should have listened to you. I thought you were saying what you thought I wanted to hear. I,”

            “I shouldn’t have said anything,” I interrupt. “It was a bad time. I wasn’t thinking.” I pause. “When did you realize I wasn’t lying?” I ask, my voice soft. I’m actually kind of worried, now that I’ve spoken, because Neil never actually said he believed me.

            “I heard you and Charlie talking in the hallway.”

            “You heard us?” I repeat. “How?”

            He laughs, and I suddenly feel warm all over. It’s his usual laugh. He’s not faking it. He’s genuinely laughing. “The doors in hospitals aren’t very thick.”

            “Oh.” I pause, and ask the one question on my mind. “Are you coming back to Welton? Or-?”

            “I’ll be back for the new semester,” Neil tells me and I’m relieved. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.

            There’s another pause. Charlie comes back into the room.

            “Our parents are back,” he says softly. I nod.

            “I have to go,” I tell Neil. “Our parents are back and-”

            “Okay,” he says slowly.

            I take a deep breath and ask, “Can I call you again tomorrow?”

            There’s a moment of silence that makes my heart drop. I wait for an answer, my ears pricking because I’m suddenly terrified he’ll say no.

            “Of course,” he says. I glance at Charlie, who is looking over his shoulder, down the hallway towards the door. I hear our parents in the entryway.

            “Goodnight Neil.”

            “Night Margo.”

            I hang up the phone and stand as mother enters with Mrs. Dalton. I scoot around them and head for my bedroom. Charlie follows, heading for his own room.

            I make sure to thank him before I get ready for an early bed.


	20. Chapter 20

I call Neil the next night while our parents are at dinner. He answers on the second ring. He asks about my day, and I ask about his, and our conversation is more awkward than yesterdays. I want to ask him more personal questions. No one is in the room with me, I have no idea where Charlie has gone off to, but I can’t force myself to ask the hundreds of questions fluttering around in my head. Do I have any right to ask? Do I deserve answers? I can’t figure it out, so when the time comes to hang up, same time as last night, I’m disappointed. I wish I could see him.

            The next day when I call, it’s silence for the first ten minutes. He had plenty to say to Charlie. I shouldn’t bother. I’m bothering him. Neil couldn’t be enjoying these phone calls. He probably wishes he was still talking to Charlie. Hell, I’m beginning to wish I was talking to Charlie.

            I glance over at Charlie, who’s taken up the chair behind the desk. He’s fiddling with the things he’s finding in the drawers. I should just hand the phone back to him.

            “Margo?” Neil asks after another couple minutes of silence.

            “Yeah?” I question.

            “I, I, uh,”

            I bite my lip in the hopes I won’t say something stupid, but I speak anyway. “You sound like Todd,” I joke quietly.

            “Funny,” he says, sounding as if he finds it very not funny.

            “Sorry,” I say quickly. “Go ahead.”

            “I, I just wanted to ask you something,” he pauses. My stomach drops. What would he need to ask me? What did I do wrong?

            “Oh,” I mutter. “I, yeah, oh, okay.”

            “Now who sounds like Todd?”

            I find this not funny. “What did you want to ask me?” I question cautiously.

            I grip the phone tightly in my hand and wait for him to speak.

            “You did mean it, didn’t you?” he asks after a lengthy pause.

            I glance over at Charlie for a reason I can’t explain. He’s now reading a book, well, no, he’s not. He’s pretending to read a book. Charlie Dalton doesn’t read for pleasure…or for school for that matter.

            “Margo?”

            “Mean what?” I ask, tearing my gaze from Charlie.

            “Mean what you said, when you were here,” his voice of soft, and for some reason I can’t help but smile.

            “Before or after you asked me to leave?” I question unnecessarily.

            He groans. “Don’t remind me, please,” he says, and then pauses. “Before.”

            “Every word,” I answer quickly. “Even the part about being removed from the hospital forcibly.”

            He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but I hear him sigh. “I thought so,” he replies. “I’m sorry,” he adds after a moment.

            “Don’t be,” I tell him. “I should be sorry. I have bad timing.”

            Charlie scoffs and I glare at him. He glances up and shrugs at me before returning to his book.

            “No, I should have listened. I should have stopped when you tried to talk to me after the play.”

            I sigh. “You were a bit preoccupied.” I remind him. “This is my fault. I should have told you when you first told me. Or any of the other times this year I wanted to tell you, like after I kissed you.”

            “Why did you lie about it?” Neil asks after a moment.

            “Because I’m an idiot,” I reply. “I was…You know how I feel about doing what my parents want. I didn’t, I didn’t want them to win, I guess. It’s so stupid, I was stupid. I’m so sorry Neil, I really am.”

            “It’s okay Margo,” Neil tells me with an intensity I can feel through the phone. “I knew you remembered.”

            “How?”

            “The next day in class, when you looked over at me; it was written all over your face. I just didn’t know why you lied about it.”

            “Because I’m an idiot,” I repeat.

            “You’re not an idiot. It’s okay.”

            I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I glance over at Charlie, and then over at the clock. Our parents should be home soon.

            Then Neil breaks the silence and asks, without warning, “Why did you sign Nolan’s paper?”

            The phone falls from my hand before I can respond, and I watch it has it clatters across the desk and drops to the floor.

            “Margo?” Charlie asks. I glance up at him slowly.

            How did Neil know about that? Who…someone told him. What happened? Who told him?

            Charlie’s in front of me. “What’s wrong?” he demands.

            I glance down at the phone and shake my head. He grabs the phone and says, “Neil? What happened?”

            There’s silence, and Charlie looks ready to drop the phone as well. “Who-” he starts to ask. I stand as he turns to me.

            “Neil, I can’t.”

            Charlie hands me the phone roughly as he starts to leave the room. I call after him, but all he says is “We swore we wouldn’t talk about it,” before leaving.

            I raise the phone to my ear. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “Charlie, he’s the one who decided w-we sh-shouldn’t.” I clear my throat.

            “I signed it to,” Neil confesses.

            I wrap my free arm around my stomach. “You what?”

            “I heard what you and Charlie said when you were here. And when father brought me the paper, he said if I signed it, I could go back to Welton. Nolan threatened to expel me if I didn’t.”

            “We were all threatened by Nolan,” I assure him. “Especially after our stunt in English.”

            “What happened?”

            I can’t help but smile as I picture the lovely shade of purple Nolan turned that day. “Captain came to get his things during class. Todd tried to explain, but Nolan shut him up pretty quickly,”

            “Todd?” Neil interrupts.

            “It gets better,” I tell him. “So Todd shut up and sat down, but then he stood on his desk to say goodbye. Half the class followed and we almost got expelled, but…I, uh, I convinced Nolan otherwise.”

            “How?”

            “I told him he couldn’t explain all of us. Especially the others boys who didn’t have black marks on their records.”

            There’s a pause, and then Neil starts laughing. It’s like nothing has changed. “I can’t believe it. Todd. Wow.”

            “I know.” I pause. “Also, it was Cameron who started the whole thing. Charlie almost beat him up.”

            Speaking of Charlie, he comes into the room a couple minutes later and tells me our parents are home, so I say goodbye to Neil and promise to call him again tomorrow night.

 

Neil and I talk every night for the rest of the week. Things seem to be falling back into place. He seems happy, and I’m happy that he’s happy. He’s sounding more and more like his old self, and I’m relieved. I can’t wait to see him. He said, again, that he’d be there for the spring semester.

            I feel pieces being put back into place, and I know it’s because of him. It has to be. Things are better. They might not be perfect, but they’re better.

            And yet, I still feel as though something is missing. It takes me a couple days to put my finger on it, but when I do, I feel like an idiot. We’ve been tiptoeing around the topic of _us_. I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get back to school. I don’t know if things will be different or if we’ll fall into an awkward pattern of what we were doing before.

            Finally, the night before we leave, I decide to break the silence we’ve settled in.

            “Neil?” I ask during one of our long pauses. I glance towards the door, but Charlie’s in another room and our parents aren’t due home yet.

            “Yeah?”

            “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, so I probably won’t be able to talk to you until we get back to school.”

            “Oh.”

            I take a deep breath and just go for it. “I, I miss you,” I confess.

            “You do?” he asks, actually sounding surprised, which in turn surprises me.

            “Of course I do. You have no idea how much I do, how much these calls mean to me. I,”

            “I have some idea,” he interrupts. I smile. “I miss you too.”

            “Really?” I question slowly. Why is it so hard for me to believe?

            “Yeah, really,” he says. It sounds like he’s smiling. “I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

            “Me too,” I say quickly. I sigh. “Me too,” I repeat.

            There’s another pause, but it doesn’t seem as awkward as some of the others. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what could follow that.

            The clock chimes nine. Our parents should be home any moment.

            “I should go,” I tell him, but I make no move to actually end the conversation.

            “Can I ask you something first?”

            “Of course.” My heart isn’t pounding like I’m used to when people ask me that. Maybe it’s because it’s Neil and things are different now.

            “What happens now?” he questions. “What happens after?”

            “After?” I repeat. This is exactly what I wanted to know. How can he do that? It’s like he’s reading my mind or something.

            I steal another glance at the door. Any moment Charlie’s going to enter and say our parents are home.

            “When we get back to Welton.”

            I sigh. “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “Something good, I assume, but I guess we’ll see then.”

            There’s a pause, and for a second I’m worried I’ve said the wrong thing.

            But then he laughs and I relax. “We’ll see,” he repeats. There’s a small pause. “I’m excited to see you Sunday.”

            “Me too.”

            “Goodnight Margo.”

            “Night Neil.”

            I hang up and go in search of Charlie. I find him in the living room with a bowl of popcorn, watching something on the television. I sink onto the couch next to him and grab a handful of popcorn.

            “Finished talking already?” he asks, his eyes never leaving the television.

            “We talked about what we needed to,” I tell him, taking another handful. This popcorn is delicious. I didn’t know Charlie could cook, assuming he made it.

            “You okay?”

            I nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially the end, however, there is a part two that I will be posting soon, so be on the lookout for it if you're interested.  
> Thank you so much for sticking with me through this story. I know it wasn't the best or most original, but I had fun writing it, and i hope you had fun reading it.


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